The no-nonsense taste of hot black coffee

The no-nonsense bite of hot black coffee,
Like magic, banishes the stuff of sleep,
A cobwebbed word, a garbled phrase or two,
Fragments of dreams, now only half-recalled.

The morning's stillness soothes, providing refuge,
A safe haven to cherish and protect,
And I celebrate enfolding silence,
A companion of my meditations.

Soft rays of early sun shoo dawn away;
Their strength increasing, they weaken
The somber shadows, chase the sullen ghosts,
Reject the dark, replacing it with light.

Bolder brushstrokes from the sun's varied palette
Now add subtler textures to the outline
Of the room; I sip more coffee and muse
About the words I need to write my poem.

Pinwheeling particles of poetry,
Sorted from the random bits and pieces
Of an improvisational display,
Start coalescing into narrative.

Demurely, morning tiptoes quietly,
For fear she might distract me from the hoard
Of words and images I choose among,
But pleased about the work that lies ahead.