Treasure Island

Nicola Mclatchie


Coffeehouse Guy


This safe familiar sanctuary
Warm coffee there to drink
Sheltered from the outside world
The place I come to think


The faces always friendly
Cheerful and inviting
The battered leather sofas
The soft and moody lighting


The plink and chink of cups and spoons
The swooshing of the steam
The milk all hot and frothy
The chocolate and whipped cream


The noises start to fade away
A faint and distant drone
I feel a sense of stillness
Aware that I’m alone


I contemplate the demons
That dance around my mind
And in this state of stillness
A clarity I find


Another sip of coffee
Glancing up just once
Oblivious to those around
In thought I’m still ensconced



I thumb the pages of my book
Immersed into a chapter
The distant drone now building
And broken up with laughter


Deep and rich aromas
Awake me from my thoughts
Senses now invigorated
Demons have been fought


Time to leave the coffeehouse
A tiny glint of sorrow
But plinks and chinks and swooshing sounds
Will still be there tomorrow.

Submitted: Monday, March 17, 2014
Edited: Monday, March 17, 2014

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Topic(s): places

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  • Colleen Courtney (3/17/2014 9:34:00 AM)

    Great poem! Reminds me of one of my favorite places to be. You captured the sights and sounds so beautifully! Nice job! (Report) Reply

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