Haiku Friday!

To my French Press:

Your perfume wakes me
The scent of Earth Mother's wrist
Sensuous teasing

Gritty, oily crust
Primordial ooze, seep down
Infuse my morning

Black electric jolt
Runs through my veins, will push me
Right off of a cliff

To greet the sunshine
Morning breeze and chirping birds
Oh I want to fly