Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Caffeine

I wrote this a while ago but it isn't really a column so I didn't do anything with it. Thought I'd post it and see what happens.


For my American friends, Tims is Tim Hortons - an iconic coffee and donut chain up here. I think there are some locations in the midwest but not too many.


Anyway - onward to my morning adventure!!




“Make your teeth and brush your bed!” I yelled, pre-caffeinated

My brain was not yet working, my taste buds not yet sated


“While you’re at it eat your clothes and put on your breakfast cereal!”

My kingly orders ringing out but sounding un-imperial


Sleeping in and running late is hampering my brain

No coffee in my belly tends to ruin my thought of train


Toasted ham and buttered cheese goes into lunch today

“Pop a Yop onto the stove and call it lunch OK?”


Off to school we madly race, debris from windows flying

“Dad your eyes are really red - have you at all been crying?”


“No my child I’m quite alright despite the gruff demeanor”

“It’s just I haven’t woken up and drunk my bathroom cleaner”


“Give me a kiss and off you go - be bright and bushy tailed”

“Despite my pasty, grizzled look, my heart it has not failed”


Back to home I dare to roam into my kitchen dream

With palsied hands I reach out to the sugar and the cream


I rush to slake my sleepy awake with liquid from the thermos

The heat will burn my lips but I don’t care about epidermis


It’s the liquid that I need, it’s the passion I so crave

I know it’s an addiction, I know I am its slave


'Can’t wait to pour the liquid from carafe into my cup

I close my eyes and dream of slowly sipping every drup


But all that pours is water hot and no aroma steam

“Bloody Hell!” I yell, “Is this some sort of waking nightmare dream?”


When I made the coffee, I forgot one simple step

It helps to have some coffee or to the store you’ll have to schlep


Into the car I clumsily run and smoke comes from my rims

I cannot get there fast enough – the line-up at my Tim’s


With frantic waving motions, I scurry past the queue

I elbow patrons from my path – I simply must have brew!


Forget the cup! I reach out for a pot of freshly made

And pour it down my gullet straight – the staff looking dismayed


The grizzly bear then disappeared – a smile now wasn’t trouble

They understood that service good meant charging for a double


I swear I don’t need treatment, I swear upon my word

But then again I wonder if I should be calling Betty Ford?


No comments: