I like my coffee with a splash of milk;
and my tea bitter –
a digestive biscuit dipped.
I like a little sprinkle of salt on my fruit,
but not on bananas.
The spread soften, not melted, on my toast,
or a thin layer of marmite.
I like a jar of kosher pickles in the fridge,
and ice cream in the freezer.
Drinking chicken broth is comfort in a mug.
I like to walk barefoot in the grass,
the cool blades brushing my skin –
a reminder that life
shouldn’t always be rushed.
I like the sound of rain on the window,
and the way it feels against my skin,
like nature’s way of waking me up.
I prefer old books with frayed spines,
their smell like comfort wrapped in nostalgia.
I like the silence before dawn,
when the world is still and mine
to dream in.
