Coffee Poem by Richard McClellan

When I awake,
from my nites slumber,
I just can't wait,
to feel the bitter thunder,
the smell of you at brew,
leaves me to anticipate,
fo' my morning thirst,
to quench, O' I jus' can't wait,

as you fill the pot,
steam coming off the brew,
I can only think,
of the magical few,
for you, the pick me up,
puts forth joy to my day,
so I can move forward,
no stagnation my way,

my first sip,
washes across my tongue,
your bitter sweet,
and a shining sun,
fo' whether your black,
or creamed, or sweet,
you quench my thirst,
a staple to some,
morning life for thee,

and as the morning fades,
to the afternoon, an dark,
know that, after my next day's fast,
I'm looking forward to ol' Joe,
cause that pot seems to,
to never, never last.