Was it the beverage itself
inspired this hymn of praise
or the conviviality
of Zimmerman's café
here are the words
of the heroine
a poem in themseslves
"more delicious than a thousand kisses
milder than muscatel"
three times a day
Bach tells us
he drank his little cup
so as not to turn into
"a shriveled-up old goat"
I too need my morning brew
to shake night's heaviness
though it hardly serves to waken
creativity the like of his
and while the Bard reminds us
that comparisons are odious
yet it's heartening to think
that Bach and I
share even a common vice
the thought of which inspires me
to wrap this ditty up
so if you'll excuse me
I'll be off
time for another cup