(Dedicated to JaNell....for whom coffee is like water)



Love coffee

Love is like fresh black coffee
The smell beckons me closer
That rich heady aroma
Drifting up my nostrils
Crawling across my tongue
Drawing me down into its warm darkness

Taste of it though, and it is bitter
The inviting warmth of the cup
Becomes a scalding of the mouth
In time, one becomes accustomed to the taste
The heat fades and become bearable
Then pleasant and soothing
Then, eventually, tepid
Then cold…
I have never liked cold coffee
One could always reheat it
I suppose
But the original spicy nuances are lost
Leaving it warmed, but flat

There are worse fates than cold coffee though
Imagine the cup
That you can smell, but not taste
Or taste, but not swallow
To be so close as to smell it
Wanting it desperately
Salivating for it
Needing that caffeine clarity
To burn away the fog.

Would that cup were mine
Would I soften its bitter edge
With syrupy sweetness?
Infuse it with just a touch of cream?
Seasoned to idyllic character
Would I linger over it lovingly?
Luxuriate in its subtle complexities,
Or devour it with reckless abandon?

Once consumed
It becomes a part of me
A caffeine rush
Stimulating the blood
Oh, Yes! This is love
But it will not last
Soon I’ll be wanting another cup
And perhaps a piece of pie.

MMMMMM……PIE!

<3 strange yummy blue man.

Well...it is your fault. The whole train of thought behind this began with a rememberance of you going and fetching your own coffee repeatedly last Friday at Iveys.

That and I was half asleep....you know how dangerous it is to think in that frame of mind.

celticsmith wrote:Well...it is your fault. The whole train of thought behind this began with a rememberance of you going and fetching your own coffee repeatedly last Friday at Iveys.

That and I was half asleep....you know how dangerous it is to think in that frame of mind.

And here I was hoping that you were offering me your cream and sugar...


Here's one for you:

Playful meeting past,
Tongued mushroom taste arouses
Curiousity.

I regret the day I ever created the myth of the armpit mushroom.

celticsmith wrote:I regret the day I ever created the myth to the armpit mushroom.

There are worse things you could be growing there.