Sunday, August 28, 2005

Coffee: The mother's milk of journalism

Coffee
What is it about this bean
a humble seed, wrapped in red
that has some secret life inside it.

Bake it, crush it and give it a hot bath
and the magic seeps out into your cup.
Pour the black brew
and the smell attacks your sleepiness
and triggers your happiest memories.

Feel the warmth of the cup
and winter melts away
held at bay by steam rising

Hand a steaming mug to a friend
and share the heat, the soothe, the passion
Give a cup to an enemy
and maybe mend a fence.

When in Hawaii, drink the Kona
but don't go to Turkey for decaf.
If you come to my house I make it strong
one cup at a time.
Plenty of room in the cup for milk
if you like it.
Take a seat in a chair, just move the books aside.
We will talk or listen to Jesus Christ on the radio.

I love my coffee, first thing every day
almost as much as I love the people
who read me and write for me all across
this fruited plain.
God bless America and keep the Kona coming!

'Ode to bean' continues in the comments
even tea drinkers are welcome.

4 comments:

Bar L. said...

David, you are am amazing craftsman in both building with your hands and with your mind. A true wordsmith. This was wonderful...this is the kind of thing you can get published. I'd like to officially volunteer to be your publicist :)

Joe said...

Great work!

Now, I'm going out to get a cup of coffee.

Cindy-Lou said...

How 'bout us diet Coke drinkers? I like the smell of coffee, but it just doesn't taste like it smells to me... Now, give me a diet Coke every morning and I'm a happy girl ;)

Jenny said...

How odd. I actually got a cup of coffee (which is weird for me since it's after 11 PM) and started to read your blog.

David, why is it that in your little poem about coffee, I feel really emotional, like hugging a friend that's been long lost?

You are sooooooo cool. And I mean that with all my heart. I value your friendship and your comments from yesterday bowled me over. You're awesome.

**hugs**