COFFEE
What
shall I say of coffee?
He
is a brown man
Made
from soil,
Pressed
into shape,
Fired
shiny,
Waxen
as a lizard,
Hat
white like dried-out shells,
Pulling
at reins of a rearing horse,
Hooves
sharp as pickaxes
Kicking
up bright clouds of lime.
Early
morning he is a dark and fragrant visitor.
He
makes his diffident presence felt—
Memories
of fresh bread,
Woody
nuts,
Heady
camphor.
Coffee
fragrance is a medicine man
Opening
his cabinet
To
relieve slumbering burdens,
Heavy
luggage hauled around
By
traveling wakefulness.
He
hands out syrups to sweeten unfulfilled dreams,
Hot
poultices to soothe unforgotten nightmares,
Energy
drinks to answer a world ceaselessly ringing,
Tonics
for the family,
Ointments
for friends,
Bandages
for the heart.
Originally published in Brew Your Best Year (June 11, 2014), an online publication of The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf
Originally published in Brew Your Best Year (June 11, 2014), an online publication of The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf
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| I love coffee... |
I worked on another version of this poem:
ReplyDeleteCOFFEE
Coffee is a brown man
Made from soil,
Pressed into shape,
Fired shiny,
Waxen as a lizard,
Hat white like dried-out shells,
Pulling at reins of a rearing horse,
Hooves sharp as pickaxes
Kicking up bright clouds of lime.
Dark and fragrant visitor,
He makes his diffident presence felt:
Memories of fresh bread,
Woody nuts,
Heady camphor.
They lighten
Slumbering burdens,
Heavy luggage hauled about
By traveling sleepwalkers.
Swinging open the cabinet,
He hands out syrups to sweeten
Unfulfilled dreams,
Hot poultices to soothe
Unforgotten nightmares,
Tonics for the family,
Ointments for friends,
Infusions for the jaded,
Bandages for the heart.
Gonzalinho
Photo courtesy of pixabay.com under CC0 license
ReplyDeletePhoto link: https://www.pexels.com/photo/food-caffeine-coffee-cup-53613/
Gonzalinho