The Coffee Stain

One slip of the hand 
The mind is distracted by its marching band 
There’s coffee all over the desk 
On the notebook, such a mess

It was pure white 
Now it looks a sight 
Dirty and brown 
Like the mud in the ground 

Thou shall not get mud everywhere 
Definitely not in one's hair 
For then one is a little pig 
A little pig, wearing a dirty wig

The love of touching the earth 
It feels like a rebirth 
The worms and twigs 
Lifetimes ago, on imaginary digs

At the end of the land 
Alone with the mud and sand 
Imagination comes to light 
So far out of sight 

Digging for treasure 
In a far-off land of pleasure 
There’s no time 
In the land of the imaginary mind 

Written by Zoe Langman 21st March 2023