Coffee
 
Hot, aromatic, bitter morning ritual
Someone said I should enjoy it black
Now it’s become habitual
 
A way to socialize for some
Or to organize thoughts alone
For my day to come
 
I care only a little for the taste
The warm I feel is what matters
As I sip slow, no worry, no haste
 
The poem will arrive in time
No worries, it is there
Some thoughts, an easy rhyme
 
Listen to the rain steady
Another sip warming
Arriving, slowly getting ready
 
Tasting the soil, the sun and rain
The march of seasons
To bring that feeling once again
 
The simple pleasure of living
And taking the time that
Coffee’s comfortably giving
 
As the poem find its way to an end
It’s maybe time for second cup
Whether, same or different blend