Poetry half marathon: Poem # 1

The sound of coffee Brewing; Music raining down From a darkened stormy Cloud. I watch the clouds grow And then edge their way Over To the Ceramic perimeter. They fade away and Expose The rich, black New moon. A new moon For a new day….


  You are my favorite food group. Thank you for your brewing, brooding ways, your dark deep stirrings, your faithful dry roasted boost. No matter how many lumps I take, no matter how low the day goes, there is always a mermaid mug of Joe….