An Encounter With Coffee

By Neha Kundarap

It's dusk in London and we are on a shopping spree.

A perfect evening with family.

Far away we spot a sign that read Café.

A mandatory stop for a coffee or frappe.

At home we arrive, sun setting behind us.

It's cooking time for me, dinner is in focus.

I am proudly fast, happy and not at all clumsy.

A delicious dinner is ready within minutes already.

All ready for bed almost dozing off peacefully.

A busy day has ended for all but me.

I am still recharged and then it struck me, the coffee I sipped at 4pm is still with me.

It's past my bedtime, usually which is ten.

I am still a buzzing bee, oh! now that's very rare.

A caffeinated soul, I decide to brave the dark.

I go off to bed but my thoughts are still playing in the park.

I imagine those artists, they say are addicted.

Whether it's pot, poppy or caffeine, it's in every detail of the art they have created.

Not taken by surprise this time, it seems too obvious.

A caffeine struck brain does go berserk when it captures us.

At the break of dawn, I am finding more rhyming words.

An artist is unleashed within me framing creative excerpts.

The night is short now, but the thoughts still sharp and deep.

My senses are tingling, not a sign of sleep.

An encounter with coffee only for a few bucks.

It hit me the most when had on empty stomach.

A beverage underrated till its chemistry pages start to flip.

Can someone exhaust the creative streak? I don't want another sip.

By Neha Kundarap