Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Ode to Coffee

 The first coffee bush sprang up above,
    God's tears from heaven a sorcerer toy'd,
        A burning gasket, and a parching tongue.
Ah happy cup! the breakfast blend I love!
    Ground ever warm and cup to be enjoy'd,
        For ever sipping, and for ever hung; 
Thou still caffeinated drink of roastedness,  
    Thou percolated shot of morning and sublime,
Jester baristas, who French press
   A cappuccino most carefully to chime:
What dark roasted legend haunt about thy shape
    Cafe au lait or latte, or of both,
        In Kansas or my New York City?
   What espressos are these?  What new outgrowth?
 What mad pursuit?  To partake with my crepe?
        What mad mocha?  Columbian ecstasy?
Shots Baileys so fine, but my morning blurred
    Cafe sua da ye soft milk, pour on;
Not to the curious eye, but, no word,
    Warmest cup the spirit gods all alone:
Fair bean, beneath the skies, thou flash to roast
    Thy dash, nor ever can Thermos be bare;
        Bold driver, never, never canst thou miss,
Though cruising near the crowd - yet, do not with toast;
        It cannot fade, though thou hast not such bliss,
    For ever wilt thou stay, and brew me fair!

Ah, happy java mug! make not me dread
   My morning e'er bid the dash adieu;
Macchiato caramel stimulation, unwearied,
    For ever piping sips for ever new;
Who are these brewing to the sacrifice?
    To what dark roast, O mysterious beast,
Lead'st thou Greek frappe growing at the eyes,
    And all her Kopi Susu with end of rest?
What charming town by river or sea shore,
    No final savasana, tolling bell,
        With grinder ready, we'll every morn,
 Exquisite Joe, our cup evermore
    Bag filter be; instant don't tell
        Why thou art marvelous, can e'er return.
O blended shape!  Fairest kisher! with breed
    Of yestermen Adams, Otis, Revere who sought,
At Green Dragon - Boston did they meet for steed;
     Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth mystery: elixir of endless delights!
    When old age shall coffee house generation waste,
        Thou shalt remain, in midst of other foe
    Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Coffee is good, good coffee," - that is all
        Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Westminster College of Salt Lake City gave me this mug.


  1. Here Here! One of God's greatest creations!
    Fabulous poem! Love ya Connie

  2. You are a talented and amazing woman. Where's your publisher??????

  3. thanks! My publisher is "somewhere out there" but we will meet soon. I have my pitch ready. ;0