Before the race started I was not a coffee drinker. At all. 26 years, no coffee. I’ll save you the details and just tell you that I am at the point of coffee drinking where I am writing poems about it (and God’s goodness). Written after a visit to a coffee farm in Antigua and originally an “assignment” for JME, I present to my blog readers- my coffee poem. Special thanks to RLR for making sure I liked coffee (and for making me drink a cup a day) before the race.
COFFEE
Coffee coffee strong and sweet,
How God gave it to us is quite neat.
The curious goats ate the red coffee berries.
It was apparent that these were no cherries.
They ran up and down and all around the town,
It was time for bed but they wouldn’t lie down.
Their owner, a pastor, gave the berries a try
He did jump kicks and praised the Lord on High.
He had the idea to give them to his congregation
Those red berries would make them pay attention!
The people ate the berries and got into the Word.
They learned of God’s goodness in a way they’d never heard.
(God then inspired someone to husk the red part, take the
green part, roast it, grind it, brew it and turn it into a delicious
breakfast, lunch, dinner, in-between and before-bed beverage.)
