dark-blooming seed shades dull petals vibrant a selcouth daisy grey clouds shift to lavender there’s foam in my coffee cup  Eartha Kitt and Marilyn Monroe once chimed their hearts belong to Daddy. If Daddy is coffee, I get where they were coming from. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwQjLZ8OOFs My heart, well least part of it, does indeed belong to coffee. I am not a morning person. Never have been. Seriously, getting up before I am ready is painful. My lack of the early bird gene presented problems back in my uni days. An early morning class or exam was often a letter grade difference for me. Chances are without coffee, 8:30 am classes would have meant D for degree. In our society, you, morning people, often have an advantage us night owls do not have. You don't just get all the worms; but the praise too. With no lions or bears stalking us under the pale moonlight, no one has to mind the night fires to keep the things that go bump and howl away. The stars for the most part go untended and little noticed. And ironically, the classes needed to become an astronomer are held at the crack of dawn. It's alright. I cope with copious amounts of coffee. Thank nature for wrapping that bitter bean in a bright red berry; no doubt it was night owl Oscar who from grinding his teeth first bit into the seed and discovered it made hanging with sun-Up Sue just a little more bearable. Maybe we should consider a peace prize for Juan Valdez.  # Grains