The coffee cup was a thought-sanctuary, allowing my dreams to find warm depths amid the aromatic foam.
Heart as tree-rings in foam, brings a blossoming to my innermost core.
The nutty aroma of cafe coffee curls unseen into fragrant air, whispering sweetly of memories long, lifting our spirits into its curls.
The coffee cup brings a sweet heat to my palms as they hug its teal clay.
If the ethereal blue of the glaciers could be captured in a glaze, that was the coffee cup.
Within that cup os swirling golden glaze sat the swirling hues of the coffee, every shade of brown I adored, blending so perfectly.
The coffee cup was small enough to fit in the palm of a child, holding that magic potent brew only the most hardy of the grown-ups could savour.
The coffee cup glaze appeared as a rainbow set free from the bounds of physics, swirling and blending. That riot of colour somehow brought more beauty to the coffee within, the gregarious and the homely belonging together.
The coffee cup rested upon the table; it was white, and so the playful splashes became an impromptu work of art.
The coffee cup was a rustic brown clay, the sort of look that spoke of a relaxing soulfulness. It was heaven to touch. Paul always thought such humble beauty invited the thoughts to go deep and reach high all at once.
The coffee cup sat upon the kitchen window ledge in pride of place, so plain and chipped and loved all the more for it.
On these summer days the iced coffee is such a blessing; the cups and the coffee sit a while in the refrigerator and feel so divine to the hand.