First Meal of the Day

Up since five a.m. today exploring

others’ words.

Your dreams and hopes, fears and tears,

stirred into my coffee.

I take it black,

unsweetened,

not bitter.

I drink it down in earnest

appreciation of the full flavour,

picked and gathered

from plants

nurtured

around the globe.

Each bean picked

to give a mix

flavoursome

to my palate.

I inhale from leaves too.

First meal of the day.

Two drugs

with the words

makes three.

Nicotine and caffeine

coursing through

bloodstream

with words fed onto pages.

Sad words,

hopeful words,

words that speak of deepest feelings and thoughts.

They touch me.

Nourishment

swallowed and inhaled

with coffee

and cigarettes.

And appreciated.

Addictive manna,

nectar to my needs.

Nicotine,

coffee

and soul connections.

I rinse my mug, stub out my cigarette, close my kindle and begin my day.

It’s almost seven now.

Two hours of addiction satisfied.

But they will invite me back

for lunch.

Advertisement

Flavoursome Friend

Bliss time again,

First coffee!

Gawd, I love it so much!

Nowhere to be on a Sunday morn,

So reading

And a mug of my crutch

 

To pep up the day before it begins,

All snuggled and sipping in time

To words that I read and some that I write,

A pleasure so simple but fine.

 

Prep for some comments!

I’m ready to roll

In and out of my favourite blogs.

All calm in here,

Though grey outside,

The weather has gone to the dogs.

 

Thunder and lightening

Accompanied my dreams,

Flashed in at my window pane,

I woke through the night

With sadness, no fright,

But a heart aching with pain.

 

All better now, dreams are so strange,

Especially when I can’t recall

What passed through my mind as I lay sleeping.

Maybe that’s wiser for all.

 

Though heavy the skies,

My heart is renewed

With a cup of the freshest of brew

And time to peruse,

Chat with my muse

And catch up on all of the news.

 

So cheers little coffee bean!

My days wouldn’t start

Quite so well

If your scent and your flavour

Did not endeavour

To rouse me. It would all go to hell.

 

Mornings spent trying to awaken.

Giving my old body a shaking,

But no need for that, cos you’re right on hand.

Yes, you my coffee, are grand!