Coffee Shop Brunette

Pitter Patter, whispers incanting

All dark, deep and gloomy

Clouds hang heavy, enchanting

Splashing, crashing sounds of moody.

In the dark we sit and listen

To mother natures wrath

For lovers of water appear smitten

Awaiting the aftermath.

Moments before, all still, silence 

The calm before the outrage

The wild, the untamed violence

Bursting out through clouds enraged.

Then as though by magic

Clouds separate, subsidence 

Appearing through the tragic

Sunshine, a new day, the vibrance.

– Lisa Huntington

Cold morning, crisp grass

Down the stairs, in cosy socks

Click to your button, beep in response

Familiar Sound, dopamine rocks.

Trickle trickle, patiently waiting

Smooth dark anticipation

Smells of nostalgia,

And sweet appreciation.

The morning treat

The afternoon saviour

The evening meal finale 

Your chameleon behaviour.

The time has come 

With you our minds nestle

Deep, moody notes of warmth

Bellow out into the vessel.

Warming mug, teasing, flirting

Aromatic scents, spicy and hot

The promise almost better tasting

The time has come thine coffee pot.

– Lisa Huntington