Ooh That Coffee!! Where would we be without it?

THE BEAN

(With Apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)

Smell the fragrance of the beans—
Coffee beans!
What a world of wakefulness their wafting vapor means!
From our slumber waking weary
To our labors, often dreary,
Comes the promise of salvation
With the morning's new libation
Of the beans.
As we stumble to our senses
When the brand new day commences
And our souls' anticipating
Of the brew that's percolating
From the beans.
And the drips, drips, drips,
They are music to our lips.
For our brains begin to function
With the blessed sweet compunction
Of the beans, beans, beans, beans,
beans, beans, beans—
With the urging and the surging of the beans.

Hear the grinding of the beans—
Coffee beans!
What a world of thoughtfulness their fervent ferment weans!
In the evening poets gather,
While the steaming milk does lather,
Share the prodding of their Muses
To the tune of java juices:
Words of insight, inspiration,
Wrought by heated perspiration
Of the beans.
Over cups of cappuccino
Lovers linger and they see no
Other person in the room
As they intertwine their fingers
And the fragrant vapor lingers
Like a rosebud just in bloom
From the beans, beans, beans, beans,
beans, beans, beans—
From the winding and the grinding of the beans.

See the fingers pick the beans—
Coffee beans!
What a world of thankfulness is owed to one who gleans
From the trees up in the mountains
All the fabled fruit that fountains
into ever-steaming streams—
Coffee beans!
From the trees that grew in Yemen
Comes to modern men and women,
Though it might appear ironic,
It's an ancient Arab tonic
Of the beans!
In that ancient Arab vista,
See the very first barista
Fashion fluids meant to mellow
Every gal and every fellow
From the beans!
And the coffee, it is brewing
With the grounds in water stewing.
And the coffee pot is pouring
Out the liquid that's restoring
All my youthful vim and vigor.
And I wish my mug was bigger
For the beans, beans, beans, beans,
beans, beans, beans—
For the savor and the flavor of the beans!

--Kevin D. Knerr, Sr./ Allentown, PA

Other miscellaneous coffee gibberish.

Water? Never touch the stuff! Fish fuck in it.

-- W. C. Fields

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If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.

-- Abraham Lincoln

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Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. 

--- Robert Frost---

Here's a great link to a Robert Frost web site!

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