Growing up, I grew up with black coffee and sweet iced tea.
I don’t remember much else
Orange Juice at times, seldom a glass of water,
But Coffee and Tea, one a fruit, and the other a leaf…
Over the past few days,
as the coffee supply has dwindled and replenished,
I was thinking about why I like coffee.
Especially after my earlier years of trying it,
“Mike, you must learn to drink it black.” Says dad.
That took me about half a dozen years
of trying and adjusting taste buds and routine
Until black coffee became my first, last, and go-to beverage.
I asked AI to write some prose and give me a picture.
The prose I’ve updated, the picture, I’m no better than AI…
“The Mystery of Coffee“
In the morning’s gentle glow, I seek my friend,
A cup of joe, faithful to the end.
Its aroma dances, a tantalizing waltz,
Awakening senses, shaking off night’s faults.
Dark and rich, a potion brewed with care,
Each sip? A journey, a moment rare.
In ceramic embrace, warmth caresses,
As morning melodies, the day confesses.
Roasted whispers from lands afar,
In every sip, stories from where they are.
From mountain peaks to sunlit plains,
In my cup of joe, their essence remains.
Bold and steadfast, through thick and thin,
My loyal companion, no, it’s not a sin.
In its depths, secrets softly stir,
As I take refuge in its familiar blur.
Oh, cup of joe, elixir divine,
In your embrace, the world aligns.
With each sip, a journey anew,
In the morning’s grace, I find a truth.
Thank you for reading.
Please share with others.
It helps me get my book written!
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