Blend

In the quiet kitchen at dawn’s soft hue,
Steam curls from a pot where two teas brew—
Earl Grey’s bright citrus meets Assam’s deep malt,
A gentle blend that soothes the soul, unsalt.

Beyond the window, colours intertwine,
Gold‑kissed wheat fields merge with hedgerow vine,
Where poppies blush against the rye’s green seam,
Nature’s own palette in a living dream.

On canvas, brushes whisper, red and blue,
Fusing into violet’s quiet hue,
Each stroke a conversation, soft and low,
Where pigment meets pigment, and ideas flow.

In conversation, accents softly meld,
Lilting lilt of north with south’s warm weld,
Words like honey, tea, and rain combine,
Creating dialect that’s truly mine.

So let us blend—our thoughts, our tastes, our skies—
Not to erase, but to recognise
That strength lies in the union, soft and grand,
A tapestry woven hand in hand.