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Scent wafts through the air, on a cold November day.
You are in the room with a cup of coffee, with biscuits on a tray.
“What is that smell, that tantalizes my nostrils?” you say.
“Could it be someone’s dinner?”

Lounging about in the house, when you are a winner.
“You are onto something!” you think.
Will it make me fly? Or Shrink?”
I muse inside to myself, quiet thoughts of contemplation.

“Does everything need an explanation?”
I potter about, writing notes.
With my cuppa, I dote.
I drink my drink, no hesitation.

“Blessings in disguise!”
“I will move on from that train of thought!”
The smell wafts through the air,
losing the plot, that you were taught.

“I think it is roast!”
Was confirmed the next day.
The scent is lingering now,
until it disappears and goes away!

© Copyright 2020 The Coffee Poet, All rights Reserved. Written For: The Coffee Poet
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