A Caffeinated Ode

For Fun, living, Poetry, TweetSpeak PoetryPrompt



Ode poetry sometimes sings the praises of the everyday. Write an ode about a favorite coffee or tea shop. What makes it yours? Write about the atmosphere, or the people who craft the beverages that make your day bright.

~ TweetSpeak Poetry serves up an ode to a coffee shop poetical prompt. You in?




Blue and white boxes of incense, two stacks of

books, several CDs, and some business cards, brochures,

pile on a re-purposed kitchen hutch, rough edges, painted

wood displays local wares.


Toast and coffee compete for space in the uppermost places of scent-thick air.


Spicy orange tea, stone-ground whole wheat, bagged

chips and canned drinks, organic, line the left side

shelf along the same wall as the couch,

leather and brown.


A duo tends the till, a wide, stainless galley kitchen, and a drive-thru window.


What’s that smell? my husband asks as we wait

for her to run the card. Driven by olfactory, I record,

and hold places, times. College I say. The food co-op; granola

girls with hairy legs and bare toes; brown farm eggs; hot drinks;

and garden foods.


Turkey with pickles times two, a veggie  sandwich, extra mustard. Coffee, black.


Bright light blinds – a stranger pulls

the cloth shades, casting rays slant

down. Patrons talk, read free

newspapers, some even hold hands.


Thick-cut, salty chips and sparkling raspberry juice make us drool – we call it dessert.


Thanks we say to the bearded man

behind the counter. My husband chews a toothpick,

our son burrows in a book, and outside, on the sunny

sidewalk I hold my coat in one hand and a

new box of incense in the other.





6 thoughts on “A Caffeinated Ode”

  1. lschontos says:

    Wow! This is so good Darlene. I think I’d like your coffee place. It’s amazing the way different smells can transport us back in time to other places. Well done!

  2. Floyd says:

    I’ll join you there. I pick places that inspire. I write in patches, whenever I can steal a moment in time here or there. But I love to swipe time in places that sit well with my writing soul. Me and you, sister, we speak the same language… except for black coffee that is…

    • Speaking of coffee shops and eateries, your semi-recent diner piece was outstanding!

      I actually haven’t tried to write whilst there — too busy eating and people watching. If you’re ever in the PNW, give me a shout, my family will treat you and yours. We’ll even spring for fancy-pants flavors. 😉


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