Midnight Café

A fresh pot of coffee,
So fragrantly hot,
I’m thinking I might have a cuppa…or not.
What? Coffee past midnight?
What can I be thinking?
It’s warm milk, of course, that a gal should be drinking!
For caffeine at midnight
Is sure to give rise,
To somnolent nightmares and morning-red eyes.
One look at the coffee,
One glance toward the bed;
I’ll take the fresh java…and sleep when I’m dead.

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4 thoughts on “Midnight Café

  1. OOOhhhhh….now I want coffee…but I don’t get to sleep til after 2-3 at the best of times. Must. Resist. Temptation. Must. :-)

    Great poem, lots of fun1

  2. This is a keeper, Nancy – that tag line is becoming more and more useful in my life.

    It doesn’t happen often, but once in a while I give in and drink up, too!

    Annie at the Transplantable Rose

  3. Imbibio capulus, ergo sum (is that right? “I drink coffee, therefore I am”? Too long since studies and fractured Latin’s the best I can do :-)).

    Sometimes, though, a cuppa joe perks me up juuuust enough that I can sleep. Takes the “way past the edge of ‘too tired to poop'” factor out of the mix, somehow.

    I’m stealing you lil ditty for my Coffee Shrine wall. It’ll go up i rotation with “O Blessed Holy Caffeine Tree.”

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