Sing, Muse, of the bean that grants the morning light,
The sacred elixir, brewed dark and strong,
Its essence fills the cups, awakes the sight.

From distant lands, it travels sav'ring long,
Born 'neath the sun, on mountains high and steep,
Its fragrance lures, the weary soul to throng.

Roasted and ground, its secrets to unseep,
A potion brewed with fervor and respect,
A sip transcends, forging bonds so deep.

Oh, coffee bean, whence blessings we collect,
Your touch ignites the flame, our souls reconnect.

© C.Warner