The last cup was poured -
Fluorescent lights flickered off.
The manager locked fast the door
And headed towards his loft.
But little did he know
That just inside his store,
One little coffee bean brightly glowed
Then more, and more, and more.
Out of the darkness of the room
The beans gathered together.
Took a glance at good friend Broom,
And promised no mess, no splatter…
Soon the beans were dancing,
But what else do they do?
Overflowing joy so entrancing;
Their fancy moves vibrate through
To all the silent, still cups
So lifeless in their form.
Even Styrofoam and plastic jump
To the beans’ frenzied storm.
“What new life is this we’ve found?”
Shouted one mug to another.
“My stiff feet can leave the ground
My now jovial, good brother!”
The tea bags soon looked in-
So proper and so posh.
“Although we know we can,
This demonstration is – My Gosh!
“We will not stand for this
Frightful fit of undecour!
Our Queen has rules against
Such unruly behaviour.”
But the beans danced wildly forth
Coming quite close to the cream.
The thick, rich, milky force
Let out a stunning scream.
“I was quite comfortable
Here with my solitary reason
Until you came and made unable
This selfish, blissful heaven.
“I’ll never join your dancing,
I’d rather sit and suffer.
I’ve moved far past your silly prancing
To ways much more strict and stiffer.”
“Amen!” the beans replied.
“You have you way and we ours,
But if ever you’d like to try
You know we’ll be around.”
The sweet cake sat posed and still.
With icing of five flavors.
Her prideful, rooted, bashful will
Kept her from mussing her layers.
“It’s just so silly, all your movement,”
She muttered shy and coy.
“I would just die of embarrassment
In joining in your ploy.”
“A fool’s dance this night may be,”
The excited beans shot back,
“If in foolery you humbly see
Just how much self we lack!”
As the beans approached the fruity reel,
The banana timidly said,
“My perfection lies ‘neath this peel.
If I could have just a few moments to shed
“This soiled and dirty, brown and splotched
Forsaken coverin’,
I can join in this scheme you’ve hatched
Showing pure yellow beaut’ within.”
“My fruity friend, we cannot wait!
The dance must go on.
You bear this burden – such heavy weight;
Cast it off! There’re new clothes to don!”
Meanwhile:
The muffin was undressing
To show her rounded top.
Knowing it is a blessing
To be so smoothly cropped.
“Good God!” cried the scones,
Features so angular and calculating.
“That curvy, crafted dome
Of Ms. Muffin is quite teasing.”
So enraptured by the sight,
This party failed to notice
All throughout the night
The beans’ true joy and focus.
So the scones looked lustfully on,
Feeding some external pleasure.
Moving, but some strange false form
That didn’t match the beans’ full measure.
“We can hardly keep contained
Our well placed decorations.
Chocolate chips and blueberry beads leave stains
No matter how perfect their situation.”
The beans danced toward the cold ice box
To catch some relief from the heat.
They found respite on the frozen water rocks,
But could not wake them from their sleep.
They bumped into Mr. Milk –
A whole gallon, galore!
And offered him a few kicks
On their store-wide dance floor.
“Who me?” Milk asked,
Quite surprised by the offer.
“But… I’m always last;
And people typically don’t bother.
“You see, I’m a little heavy.
The whole floor will shake.
I sweat quite profusely;
And when warm, I’m quite rank.”
But the beans, they persisted;
And gave milk a gentle shove.
Although clumsy and jug-twisted,
The dance he did love.
And the beans danced wildly on
Through all hours of the night.
Without tire, without groan –
It was ever such a sight.
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