Breakfast by Matthew

For confessions from a friend of mine. He should be able to read for you this Saturday.

Breakfast
by MatthewTCody


Grinding coffee was never a toil,
The beans gave up their essential oil.
The fire turned water, to hissing steam,
That frothed the milk into clouds of cream.

The egg shells cracked, freeing the treasure,
The whisk whipped them for a certain measure.
Then pour into a pan with for a scalding kiss,
The searing heat causing them to hiss.

Some cheese shredded, will play the part,
Of the way You always melted my heart.
Jalapeño peppers always added heat,
Like when You used the spoon to beat.

The tray was set with plates and bread,
Omelets and coffee kept You fed.
Me at Your feet, where i could steal,
A glance at You during the meal.

But now Your gone, i feel half dead.
Perhaps forever is my dread.
Missing the way You taste and  feel,
With You gone the world’s oatmeal.