Post by goldenmyst on Jan 26, 2022 22:35:16 GMT -6
Coffee, Tea, or Barista
The sunshine in her tresses is an aura of the sacred woman. She sends her womanly vibes in the form of a message from across the glass of the pastry rack. “How is your day going?”
“Just a relaxed kind of day.”
“What brings you to our realm of coffee?”
“I come here to write poetry and prose. The meditative music and peaceful energy put me in a frame to create.”
She smirks mischievously, “Oh, and watching the people fits in that scheme. Lots of beauty to behold including the Baristas.”
“Well, I must confess folks such as you are my muse. Nice of you to notice.”
“Nice of you to see me as beautiful. I have that young woman self-image problem.”
“I hope my visits to you help to cure you of any far-out notion that your appearance is in any way lacking. You are the cat’s meow.”
“But my countenance is so fierce. Don’t you find that a turn-off?”
“Love your take-charge look. It stuns me in a wonderful way.”
She retreats into the open space of the coffee kingdom. “I certainly hope you get inspired here.”
“Today a title is on my menu.”
“Tell me the title of one of your books.”
“Belle Époque.”
“You had to choose a French one when au revoir is my sole French word.”
“You are too modest.”
“Truthfully, I know the meaning of ‘mademoiselle’ because the Cinderella slipper fits me.”
“I fancy myself a how to author. Does ‘Designer sonnets for your beloved redhead' resonate?”
“It has the virtue of being about not just any redhead for she is your beloved.”
After imbibing the mint tea she graciously prepared I return to her for my third cup. She fixes me up and looks at the brew like she has figured out the rune that is the key to why I keep her busy. She says, “That is your third cup. You must really like that tea.” Before ringing me up she gives me her best redhead gaze with the look of a woman who knows what makes me tick. Like a no-nonsense sergeant at arms she utters, “You know the drill!”
The sunshine in her tresses is an aura of the sacred woman. She sends her womanly vibes in the form of a message from across the glass of the pastry rack. “How is your day going?”
“Just a relaxed kind of day.”
“What brings you to our realm of coffee?”
“I come here to write poetry and prose. The meditative music and peaceful energy put me in a frame to create.”
She smirks mischievously, “Oh, and watching the people fits in that scheme. Lots of beauty to behold including the Baristas.”
“Well, I must confess folks such as you are my muse. Nice of you to notice.”
“Nice of you to see me as beautiful. I have that young woman self-image problem.”
“I hope my visits to you help to cure you of any far-out notion that your appearance is in any way lacking. You are the cat’s meow.”
“But my countenance is so fierce. Don’t you find that a turn-off?”
“Love your take-charge look. It stuns me in a wonderful way.”
She retreats into the open space of the coffee kingdom. “I certainly hope you get inspired here.”
“Today a title is on my menu.”
“Tell me the title of one of your books.”
“Belle Époque.”
“You had to choose a French one when au revoir is my sole French word.”
“You are too modest.”
“Truthfully, I know the meaning of ‘mademoiselle’ because the Cinderella slipper fits me.”
“I fancy myself a how to author. Does ‘Designer sonnets for your beloved redhead' resonate?”
“It has the virtue of being about not just any redhead for she is your beloved.”
After imbibing the mint tea she graciously prepared I return to her for my third cup. She fixes me up and looks at the brew like she has figured out the rune that is the key to why I keep her busy. She says, “That is your third cup. You must really like that tea.” Before ringing me up she gives me her best redhead gaze with the look of a woman who knows what makes me tick. Like a no-nonsense sergeant at arms she utters, “You know the drill!”
