Diasappearing Days

I’m supposed to be on holidays to have a little rest,
but the weather is atrocious and all I feel is stressed.

There’s so much I should be doing to fix this place of mine,
but no matter my intentions I just can’t seem to find the time.

The grass is growing rapidly, there’s gravel to be spread,
the pile of mulch is waiting to be placed on garden beds.

I look out every morning with hopeful heart for sun,
but all I see is drizzle, which isn’t any fun.

I wasted all of yesterday on a computer glitch,
I didn’t find the answer, now it’s like an unscratched itch!

I’ve promised not to waste today, that I’ll do something that I like,
I’m thinking that this qualifies – morning coffee, as I write.

© ceenoa

The Fuel of the World

I see them marching off to work,
encouragement clutched in hand,
their symbol of endurance grasped,
like a runner with the Olympic torch.

No dawdling gait, but at a brisk walk,
drones scurrying off to drudgery,
from plastic, cardboard, or thermos cup
sip quickly now – no time for talk.

A staple of the working day,
the fuel that runs the world,
the brown, crushed beans of sustenance,
– make mine a large latte!

© ceenoa


I’m not what you’d call a coffee snob
with a percolator on the stove
I don’t savour the aroma of brewed beans beneath my nose

there’s no gleaming stainless steel machine
just waiting to be used
for espresso, cappuccino, or those funny ones called pods

I possess no little doodad
to froth or steam it up
no filters that it drips through as it oozes to my cup

In my milk and water I pour powder
courtesy of Nescafe
for I like my coffee simple, a hot mug of chai latte.