Drawn from bark where warm rains fall,
Island groves that felt the call,
Spice once moved by ancient trade,
Treasured paths of wealth were made.

Aroma bold, both sweet and sharp,
Spice that sings like bow on harp,
One small drop can change the air,
Turning stillness into care.

Used with care, it brings a glow,
Gentle warmth that starts to flow,
Like a fire steady and bright,
Giving comfort through the night.

In homes it cleans with balanced tone,
Spice that freshens every zone,
Blended well, it leaves things clean,
Air feels lighter, crisp, and keen.

In kitchens small, it must be slow,
Powerful warmth you need to know,
One drop flavors rich and true,
Careful use matters too.

Old as routes that crossed the seas,
Carried far with patient ease,
Cinnamon stands bold and wise,
Rooted deep where stories rise.