Poetry Thursday

Black as ground coffee
they percolate low on the horizon,
roiling, boiling,
bubbling to the surface.
they overflow their cup of sky
soaking parched soil
with warm elixir.
Sated at last,
earth wakens with a smile.
This week's prompt on Poetry Thursday suggested a poem using words we love and/or words we hate. Anyone who knows me is aware that coffee is one of my great obsessions. As I was drinking this morning's brew, a much needed summer storm rolled in. The moist downpour was a jolt of caffeine to our dry, brown grass and wilted flowers. They perked up just like I do after my first cup! I love all these works associated with making coffee too, especially "percolate"- (thanks, Annie!) So, it seemed natural to put it all together.