The Cafe

Published January 15, 2015 by Naomi Rettig

The hiss of the steamer spits like a snake
As the café and staff start to awake.
Grinding of beans and coffee aromas,
Shuffling shoppers emerge from their comas.
The scraping chairs of coming and going,
Satisfied customers ever flowing.

The chef in the kitchen in a flurry
Cooking up soup, a toastie and curry.
It’s all out action at pot-wash station,
Sauce smeared plates and dehydration.
A cry of ‘spoons’ as they vanish out front,
A quick foot assistant goes on a hunt.

Chatter of people enjoying their food
Drinking Earl Grey tea, freshly brewed.
Wonderful staff remaining so cheerful
Even when queues are so long and fearful.
When crowds have gone and the day is complete
Body parts ache like an Olympic athlete.

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