Coffee

My senses blurred,

The brain seems fogged,

Eyes don’t open,

The voice is but a squeak,

Can’t walk straight,

My hands vibrate,

The room spins around,

And I sink deep.

Is this what death is,

Is this the end of life,

To meet my maker

Isn’t in my scheme of things 

Relax, my darling,

You aren’t dying, not yet,

For I brought you the brew,

The magic potion.

A touch of it

Will clear the cobwebs,

A cup of it

Will bring you back to life.