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
-
Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - 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: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
Ah nothing like fresh ground coffee. The bean is most important and how it is cured just like people there is a different flavor. Lovely Chic
A coffee bean is the same as us, if handled correctly you get a much better flavour, enjoyed the read
Thank you, thank you, thank you so, so very much! You're too kind, you truly are.
You are very welcome
Excellent.
Thank you!!!
Oh, I get it! Well done, Missy! It is so good to read you again after recovering from God knows what I had! Your sonnet feels like life to my eyes! It gets a fave just for that, let alone that it is superbly written and smells of Italian Coffee! 🌹👏
Ah me! Wish we could chat over a pot of the same, but alas, must do with the vaporous ether for now, and our own kitchens and cafés. Thank you so very much, sweet friend!
You are most welcome!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.