Coffee

There is nothing more comforting than coffee, but I’ve never thanked it properly. I’ve never given the coffee maker a present or given a party in its honor. I’ve never nominated it for friend of the year or made a holiday in its name. I feel that I have been remiss in this regard and I mean to mend my ways. I shall start off with a poem in its honor. Let’s see….

Ode to the Coffee Pot

Today, in honor of my friend,
I’d like to say some things.
I’d like to state my gratitude
For the happiness that it brings.

On rainy days and stormy nights
It’s there to make me grin,
And comfort me when all seems lost,
And when I cry within.

And when the sun is shining bright
And days are fine and nice
It isn’t bad with flavoring
And whipped up cream, and ice.

In the morning when I arise,
I hear its perky chatter,
And smell that glorious scent of its,
Then, nothing is the matter.

And so today, I honor it,
That friend of ceaseless good.
I love my friend, the Coffee Pot,
And would wed it, if I could.

That’s best I can come up with, though it really deserves so much more.

Of all the beverages in this world (and there are many) coffee is still the most loved. Everyone (if they are quite sane) will drink and enjoy this life-lending-liquid. It is the drink of the gods and brings people together like nothing else can.

As wonderful as it is, I can’t seem to find any symbolic value in it. It’s a friend to all, a universally enjoyed drink, hundreds of years old and in some ways, very good for you. But I can’t tie all these things together into a anything really meaningful. Maybe it’s an example of the type of friend we should all strive to become… It has a meaning for each individual.

I could go on for years about the virtues of coffee, but really, all that is important is that we give it the respect it deserves.

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