Ode to coffee

Coffee, thou art my tempestuous companion, both invigorating and soothing. When my mornings are heavy with languor, you change my frame of mind. Your warmth runs through me, awakening my senses and shaking me from my comatose state, with your rich, redolent floral aroma and your lustrous dark color. It feels as though I could reach out and touch velvet itself.

There is comfort in the ritual of your preparation, the whirring of the grinder, the bubbling brew, and the rising perfume that fills my small kitchen while the day's first light catches on the steam that rises from the cup.

For a moment while waiting, as I stretch and yawn, feeling the world drift by, I see my deep, tangled thoughts unravel. For just a moment, the world outside the kitchen ceases to exist, and there is only you and I.

You are both the comforting embrace that cradles me and the spark that ignites me; a codependent yet undeniably beautiful bond. Here's to you, coffee, the magic that brings the mundane to life, one glorious cup at a time.

So, to whom it may concern: Get the coffee machine fixed, or I will start invoicing my daily trips to Madmum.