Early Mornings

The smell of roasted coffee

In the morning

Percolating corridors of prayer

Made mass and meditation

Fairly bearable

At the end of prayer

The coffee would be there

 

The coffee custom

Came to us from Europe

From Italy

From Naples in the south

The dark inviting brew

Kick started mornings

Its potent flavour

Welcome in the mouth

 

Here in the land

Where tea was king

Our continental cousins

Newness bring

Roasted coffee beans

Every morning

Made us feel

That we were in the swing

 

For fifty years

I kept the sacred ritual

Coffee for my breakfast every day

Until a doctor told me

Skip the coffee

Ten years now

I’m only drinking tea

 

But I’m tempted

As I pass the shelves in Waitrose

To pick a packet

Of that sacred brew

To taste again

The sweetness of those mornings

When life was mass and coffee

All I knew

 

Brian Fahy

4 October 2021

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