The Quirky Patterns

In the shadow of a whispered sun, where dreams begin to stretch their wings, the old clock
ticks away forgotten echoes, a melody
among the dandelions, singing

The tea stains on the table narrate stories
of ships that never sailed, anchors resting
gently, in the arms of a silent sea, while
wind chimes dance

Beneath a sky painted with secrets, an unfinished
letter waits, swimming in the ink of yesterday's
laughter, seeking
the touch of a hand that dreams