Oh, For the Love of Coffee!

 

Stopping by Starbucks on a Monday Evening

By Lana Giacumakis

 

Whose latte is this? I think I know.

He’s over reading the paper though.

He did not hear the barista call

To collect his frothy cup of joe.

 

My little habit must seem queer

To those without a Starbucks near.

Between the beans and how they’re ground,

The richest flavor does appear.

 

The barista knows just what to make.

Rarely is there a mistake.

The other customers would agree,

Starbucks coffee is hard to fake.

 

The first sip lovely, dark and deep.

But, I have appointments to keep.

And hours to go before I’ll sleep.

And hours to go before I’ll sleep.

 

Now, hop on over to the Simple and the Ordinary for more Poetry and if you have poetry to share, please do!