Coffee

Coffee


Coffee, coffee brown and black,
All the courage that I lack,
Is bound within your liquid stuff,
And gives to me what is enough.

You make me feel as I’m alive,
And starts my engine’s morning drive,
To face the tasks I face today,
Or any trial that’s in my way.

So pour me dear another cup,
Another at my dinner sup,
And to my bed I dream of you,
Your substance in my cup I’ll view.

Guatemala coffee best,
Italy Espresso for my rest,
And Kenya Mission is divined,
To settle any troubled mind.

Perhaps someday I’ll switch to tea,
With all its attributes agree,
And brew the nuance out of it,
To formulate a new found wit.

Until I do I’ve found a bean,
That roasts and grinds in blends serene,
I challenge anyone to share,
A brew that gives a lift this rare.

Peter Lowell Paulson

November 1, 2010