For Day 2 of my new coffee series, I had intended to post something in prose, but I found myself reading through another coffee poem that I wrote several  years ago. As I read it, I was tempted to add some more thoughts to it, so I did. And since it is now a new poem — sort of — I decided to go with verse again today.

NO NEED FOR FALDEROL

I joined the queue outside the door,
Just after 6:00 a.m.
The morning sun had chased the fog,
But warmth was pretty thin.

My breath formed steam each time I spoke,
And pockets warmed my hands.
I yearned for coffee, hot and strong,
A large cup was my plan.

We inched along with moderate speed,
And soon I stood inside.
The fresh aroma brought a smile;
It’s tantalizing tide
Mingled with the cozy sounds
Of orders glorified:

Venti Frappucino – Tall
Mocha Latte – Grande.
Americano, Cappucinno,
Really, there’s no end.

At last, I stood before the bar;
The young barista frowned.
He know I’d order coffee – plain.
No whip, no froth — just brown.

I hate to disappoint him so;
He’s quite sweet after all.
But coffee is its own reward;
No need for folderol.

I’m all for staying true to form — 
A purist through and through.
The best coffee experience:
Unadulterated brew.

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