Poem

Coffee and Writing

In the coffee shop
The coffee is hot
Every twenty minutes
They make a fresh pot.

That ritual is every day
Diligently performed that way
At least that's what
Their sign does say.

Today my hand is cold
So my mind's not sold
On writing what I have to say
In a style that is bold.

I raise my cup a bit
Then I take a little sip
The taste is heavenly
Unfortunately I burn my lip.

For a while I must wait
Before another sip I take
As my cold hand on the cup
Warms up at a fast rate.

The coffee is soon just right
My mind is geared to write
My hand is ready to cooperate
Then I write bold with all my might.

Written by Harvey A. Bond
January 17, 2008