To My Muse, The Lady Caffeine

(a Prose Poem)

The Strange, fierce daughter of Arabia;

Alcohol’s gentle sister,

Sugar’s bitter twin;

She holds me in thrall, I am slave to her bitter charms

But never do I wish to be free of her,

That fair enemy of sleep

Or sleep’s replacement, as the night may chance

She makes my hand quiver like that of a dying man

She gnaws at my empty stomach as if I had eaten naught for years.

She keeps me from my rest at night

But she opens my mind,

She wakens my soul.

And if for a short time she does allow me sleep

She brings vivid dreams of wonder.

Ah, Caffeine! Sweet substance of dreams,

Lifeblood of midnight,

Companion of the Moon.

My Muse, my friend, my Master.

Sparkling in my wine glass before me,

Steaming in the mug on my table,

Coursing through my veins and filling my head.

At night when all mankind sleeps my Muse and I alone keep company.

She makes my thoughts run wild

And beneath the setting moon she suddenly changes this cold, unfeeling scientist’s heart to that of an artist.

Oh Muse, once more let us walk under the stars and open my eyes again to Beauty!