In honor of National Poetry Month.
Oh, coffee
I used to drink you as soon as I woke up.
I would sit there and sip
and sip
and sip.
Now, you mock me.
I scoop you into the pot
add water
and you brew.
I can hear you laughing
and laughing
and laughing.
Then you start to smell oh so good.
You know there are many miles to go
before I can relax and drink you.
You know how tired I am
but you still just sit there and get cold.
There are certain things that must be done
before I can savor you.
The baby’s bottle needs to be made.
Baby oatmeal needs to be mixed.
Bottles need to be washed
and dishes need to be put away.
Soon it is time to get the baby up.
Change the baby’s diaper.
Feed the baby oatmeal.
(And you know that is no easy task.)
Here comes the airplane.
“Where is my coffee?”
Which is really what I am thinking
as an airplane comes and goes
for what seems like a million times.
Give the baby the bottle.
Burp the baby.
Finally, you are mine
all mine.
Ahhhh
sweet, sweet coffee.
Then the baby spits up
and it is back to mommy mode.
Goodbye coffee.
See you soon.
(But not soon enough.)
A similar poem was printed on Rosie’s old blog. Check out her new blog Sunshine and Reading.