At last, a coffee cup worthy of the name.Matte black for that sober Big Haus sense of the sublime and yet, a glossy white inside so that you can see the heady, opaque seepage which graces your day.
It (or they, being 72 in number) arrived today and there was rejoicing in these environs.
In honor of their presence I dredged up a poem written over twenty years ago.
It is titled....
Coffee
It crawls from the pot echoing glory,
Victory as black as the night it defeats,
Raising the shades that blinded us. More we
Owe this gallant, this ambrosial treat.
This morning comes on Columbian feet,
Moves us to make us to run in the race.
A sacrifice placed on His mercy seat,
The God of all comfort judges its case.
Does he decry it as Stygian trace,
Or grant you the peace of St. Stephen’s face?
It crawls from the pot echoing glory,
Victory as black as the night it defeats,
Raising the shades that blinded us. More we
Owe this gallant, this ambrosial treat.
This morning comes on Columbian feet,
Moves us to make us to run in the race.
A sacrifice placed on His mercy seat,
The God of all comfort judges its case.
Does he decry it as Stygian trace,
Or grant you the peace of St. Stephen’s face?
3 comments:
$10
plus shipping if that is needed.
The fact that the lines were originally created as fulfillment of a Drones Club assignment won't be overlooked in the attributions, I trust.
Certainly, Amanda P.
I would be honored.
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