(Reposting, last year from Coffeenut)
'Twas the night before roasting, not a bean in the house
Not a coffee cup was stirring, not even a Civet mouse;
The bean bags were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Sweet Maria's soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of SL90's danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I with my cup,
Were struggling to be awake after a many hours up,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the kitchen to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Fell over an AlpenRost and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of Urnex to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Diedrich, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so mellow and calm,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Tom.
More rapid than drip-brewing his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, RAIMI! now, KONA! now, PWANI and HARAR!
On, AIFU! on MATTARI! on, TARRAZU and MALABAR!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now have a cup! Have a cup! Have a cup all!"
As dry chaff 'ere the slightest breeze will fly,
When met with disturbance, land right in your eye,
So up to the house-top like bean flakes they flew,
With the sleigh full of coffee beans, and St. Tom too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard that familiar thing,
The roasting and grinding of each precious bean.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came St. Tom with a bean crackin' bound.
He was dressed in Brazilian burlap, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with chaff and soot;
A bundle of roasting toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a dream come true just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like coffee cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a grin,
And his beard, a "full city" color, all 'round his chin;
The stump of a Pelouze he held tight in his teeth,
And the 2nd crack smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round tummy,
That shook, when he gulped brew and you knew it was just yummy.
He was hearty and kind, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of examining myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the coffee pots; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his cup,
He took a long sip, and at the chimney rose up;
He sprang to his roaster, and with a look to his team,
Away they all flew like the chaff of a bean.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of view,
"HAPPY ROASTING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-BREW!"
MM;-) aka Kona Krazy miKe mcKoffee
Variable Variac Rockin' Rosto Roasting
Miss Silvia brewin'
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