The Coffee and I

But soft, what steam from yonder kettle breaks?

‘Tis the kitchen, and she is my coffee.

Smooth and creamy or dark and bitter

I love her just the same;

 

And all that’s best of dark and light

Meet in her sachet and in her depths

As she gives me strength to clear society’s debts.

 

If I profane with my unworthy hands

This holy shrine of warmth I must apologize;

My lips stand as two blushing pilgrims

To smooth my harsh touch with the purest devotion to caffeine.

 

Yet I find my lips I must profane with prayer

Even as I devote them to thee,

My dear, dear coffee.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. This is certainly one of the finest versions of Shakespeare’s and Byron’s works in modern world!

    Like

    1. Thank you, that means a lot! ^_^

      Like

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