Morning Joe

"Ode To A Cup of Coffee"

Oh coffee, my cuppa coffee

My reason for getting up.

You're better than a piece of toffee

Rich, dark Columbian in my cup.

My day wouldn't be the same

Without this strong, warm brew.

As I face the world and its game,

My coffee will see me through.

This was my entry for Bad Poet's Day, August 18, 2000. I didn't win. The judges said my rhyme was too good.

This group of family and friends hasn't celebrated Bad Poetry Day in almost ten years even though it is meant to be an annual celebration. Surely enough has happened in ten years for material for another round of bad poetry. (Hmmmm, Kari?)

I've already blogged about tea and how I learned to drink it as a child and how it was my choice for a hot drink. I did not begin drinking coffee until I was 40 yrs old. I had always loved the smell of coffee and I liked coffee flavoured candy and ice cream, but the taste? Ugh.

I don't remember exactly what Mom was doing with the hogs - feeding them, moving them, something - but her hand was too close to the boar's mouth and she got her finger ripped open by his tusk. She wasn't going to be able to do the milking for awhile. So each day I got up early to drive over and do the morning milking. When I took the milk to the house, she always had coffee made and breakfast ready. I started drinking coffee just as I learned to drink tea - half milk, half coffee and lots of sugar. By the time she was able to milk again, I had become a coffee drinker. (I now drink it black. Hills Brothers Columbian Dark Roast is my favourite.)

For umpteen years Bud and I have used the same two mugs pictured. Mine was my office mug until I retired. Preston gave it to me when I was still at Wright Tree Service. On the front: "They finally found something that does the work of 10 men...." on the back: "one woman". (Yes, my kids were raised by a feminist mother.)

Bud's mug is one I gave him for Valentine's Day the year we were married. The words on his: "For one human being to love another is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. By the accident of fortune a man may rule the world for a time but by virtue of love he may rule the world forever.

For you to ask why I love you is no better than to ask me advice on the rules of madness. Love is indeed a tender emotion and you can make it blossom with a smile. Love requires great communication between friends. Otherwise it can neither be born nor exist. It is not what you give me, but what you are willing to give me, that determines the quality of our love.

Your heart is as great as the world, and there is no room in it to hold the memory of a wrong. The more you love me the more I want from you and the less you have to give me since you've already given me all your love. When a love relationship is at its height, there is no room left for any interest in the environment; a pair of lovers are sufficient to themselves.

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. Our love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction. When one loves somebody, everything is clear - where to go, what to do - it all takes care of itself and one doesn't have to ask anybody about anything.

The love we give away is the only love we keep. There is no heaven like mutual love. There is no remedy for love but to love more. One's duty is to love: and not love this or that. If you observe well, your own heart will answer. Love it the way it is. Credit to: Kenneth L. Groovwy ??

It has been a long time since I read all the words on Bud's cup. (Probably a long time since he has, too!) Some of them are almost unreadable after all these years. Now they are preserved in cyber space. It may be habit that keeps us using the same cups day after day. It may be for sentimental reasons. Regardless, I hope we have years and years left to enjoy our morning joe together.