I used to be a tea person, but after a naturopath told me to take a break from black tea, assuring me coffee was fine, my little fliration with coffee caught fire (not that I drink a lot of it — usually no more than a cup a day). Coffee is now habitual, the first thing I aim myself toward after the stumble from bed.
The smell of coffee has always brought me a river of serenity, that sense of being taken care of, watched over and embraced. Like the words from Quaker song, “Tis a Gift To Be Simple,” the taste of coffee now turns and turns me until I come ’round right.
So let’s hear it for the cup of Joe, liquid ambition, black gold, brain juice, cup of jolt, daily grind, liquid lightning, morning mud, mama’s little helper, rocket fuel, especially when the day is early and night too short.
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