Since I can't ask him anymore, prolly not.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCXLVIII)
Dad used to say, when I'd inquire fr'intents
"What beans?" "Year-old Italian beans." Avail
Me of the same, if only, that detail
Was his own, eh? Save Starbucks three, to thence
Think I might have the flavour thereby, whence
Is THAT what Daddy meant? LaVazza's bail
If it's that old by now, is that? Derail
The vain search for that note cuz tis pretense?!
Dunno. Yet how my latest brew as t'were
Was so "complex" I thought 'gain of that cue
Since seems I'm sipping that afresh in tour.
Perhaps I too kin realize what I knew
But only by his expertise? Is't poor?
Or what he'd tell me? LORD, how I need You.
16Feb25
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: February 20th, 2025 09:46
- Comment from author about the poem: All the things you prolly could've asked but-- yeah. Haha. Enjoy?!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Online)
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