Hooray for the Wonder of me! Or, Ode to a New Coffee Maker
Hooray for the Wonder of Me!!!
I waited on that frozen shelf. watching people pass. They do not appreciate me for my beauty, my art, or my commitment.
But the one; he wanders, takes a look. Yes, he has heard about me and my many talents.
He picks up the poor schmuck serving as the floor model, that one won't get far -- banged and dented and popped around before so much as one ground alters him.
You may call me a coffee maker.
But I am a maker of Magic.
I can change a dull morning to one of delight.
I create conversation, and even courage.
I have been known to inspire poetry.
Trust me with your mornings, and I will serve you faithfully.
Oh! What joy! To be stripped and freed from the confinement of packaging.
To be handled, oh so gently -- and look!
SHE likes me too! She believes in me even more than he does,
and at the mere mention of her words,
"the holidays,"
I am spilling over with plans.
Atmosphere is my gift, my genius. Aroma, merely a part of me.
I will wake you with a gentle call, no beeps or buzzing from me --
and you will slip easily into your morning as if I were your favorite lounging clothes.
(Speaking of, I do love a good pair of pajamas, and am quite discriminating. If approached by filthy bed clothes, or worse, nothing -- I'll still offer you my blessing, but my eyes will be shut as you take my glory from me.)
Yes, you, young man who brought me home -- the cozy shelf will do. And I will entertain, warm, and delight your loved ones --
And daily -- if you will only let me -- I will fill you full of the nectar of the gods.
Send you out of the door singing.
At last, I am home.
And now situated, have but one desire:
to brew contentment for all who will have me.
I waited on that frozen shelf. watching people pass. They do not appreciate me for my beauty, my art, or my commitment.
But the one; he wanders, takes a look. Yes, he has heard about me and my many talents.
He picks up the poor schmuck serving as the floor model, that one won't get far -- banged and dented and popped around before so much as one ground alters him.
You may call me a coffee maker.
But I am a maker of Magic.
I can change a dull morning to one of delight.
I create conversation, and even courage.
I have been known to inspire poetry.
Trust me with your mornings, and I will serve you faithfully.
Oh! What joy! To be stripped and freed from the confinement of packaging.
To be handled, oh so gently -- and look!
SHE likes me too! She believes in me even more than he does,
and at the mere mention of her words,
"the holidays,"
I am spilling over with plans.
Atmosphere is my gift, my genius. Aroma, merely a part of me.
I will wake you with a gentle call, no beeps or buzzing from me --
and you will slip easily into your morning as if I were your favorite lounging clothes.
(Speaking of, I do love a good pair of pajamas, and am quite discriminating. If approached by filthy bed clothes, or worse, nothing -- I'll still offer you my blessing, but my eyes will be shut as you take my glory from me.)
Yes, you, young man who brought me home -- the cozy shelf will do. And I will entertain, warm, and delight your loved ones --
And daily -- if you will only let me -- I will fill you full of the nectar of the gods.
Send you out of the door singing.
At last, I am home.
And now situated, have but one desire:
to brew contentment for all who will have me.
posted by Brenda Cowley at 1:28 PM
2 Comments:
"I will wake you with a gentle call, no beeps or buzzing from me --"
Or perhaps I will make an ungoddly cacophany as I desimate the first sacrifice, provided while I slept. I will startle you awake, and ensure you remain scared shitless of the black beast that has taken refuge in the kitchen.
or maybe it's "ohhhh god, not the one who only drinks tea .... and mars my holy container with a substance weaker than spun silk ........"
"the brave little coffee maker"
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