Just as night walks across the meadow
leaving for another sunrise,
and the stars blink and wink,
shuttering their windows,
the coffee makers light springs on
and the aroma of hazelnut fills the house,
warm as the bed where you had lain just moments before.
Small gestures-
dark and light,
coffee and cream,
warmth and comfort.
All these things, small epiphanies made manifest,
illuminating the morning hour.
thecourseofourseasons 
Gorgeous from first word to last. And I love the old fashioned angel. Happy holidays, my friend.
That first line…oh my goodness it is gorgeous. My sit has a whole series of gift tags done by the artist who did yoyrs. In fact, this particular one looks just like my aunt when she was five. This is such a lovely poem in and of itself..