Sunday Scribblings " Chipped Mug"

Yesterday I found these beautiful flowers at my door with a note that said " The Pixies are about..." Thank you Laura, I love them and they are the most fragrant carnations I've ever had!

Indulge me in my silliness! If you've ever had a favorite mug then you'll understand this post. Otherwise it will seem superficial and trivial! There's something about that special mug you fall in love with. It's with you everyday, the familiarity is comforting, it may get a bit worn, but you still love it! Sort of like the ideal partner! I promise I don't have Alzheimer's, this is not a repeat post. Albeit very similar these are not the same mugs that I received last week. This post is about manifesting your desires and moving in the direction of having your dreams come true. This mug was just one of the many desires I held dear for three years. It got to the point I considered writing to the Artist to ask if she could create and ship me a new mug to replace the old chipped one! I notice she doesn't even have them on her website anymore! I remember the price was outrageous too! I have no idea why I kept the damaged cup under my sink so long. I just couldn't seem to part with it! I even considered using it in a mosaic to preserve the pattern!

"Thank you for abundance," is a frequent saying I use, every time something wonderful comes my way! A special Thank you to my daughter, whose continued persistence paid off! I think I can now release the chipped cup to mug heaven! Or where ever the dead mugs go!

Sunday Scribblings "Miscellaneous"

Chipped Mug

Cherished is my useless mug

Now kept beneath the sink

Chipped along the outer rim

Unsafe from which to drink

To me the pattern’s sacred

For none I’ve loved so much

Aesthetic in its vibrancy

My soul it seemed to touch

For every sip of coffee

And every taste of tea

Truly brought a sense of joy

To that simple side of me

Unexpected sadness formed

When I knew it was destroyed

I searched for a replacement

But none could fill the void

Soon that secret yearning

Become a failed quest

Just when I relinquished hope

And set my grief to rest

My daughter on a mission

With passion of devotion

Honed in on my desire

With her magnetic potion

Far from home, without a car

Heavy and labored down

Trekked alone on the bus,

Some treasures that she found!

Mugs, a bowl a teapot too

By an artist I revere

Astonished by the bounty

That managed to appear

Now I feel like Alice

In a land of adoration

Where whimsy reins bits of joy

As I celebrate my elation!