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Hot Water

Who is Earl, and why is he grey?
And why does he turn London into a foggy day?
Why does he roll with that islander lot?
Why does he smell of bergamot?

Who is Jasmine, and why is she green?
Does she blossom just to make a scene?
Is she from Okinawa or Fujian?
Is she mortal, or a goddess of heaven?

Who is Pepper and where does she mint?
Was she a goldsmith banker for a short stint?
Why does she now grow leaves that are cold as ice?
And why do they taste so very nice?

By all these words you must think I mean
That all these leaves are what make me serene
But to you, I must come clean
I always tend to favor my tropical queen

Her throne at risk by this warming Earth, we glean
I don't know how long she'll keep filling me with dopamine
But for now, she's here, giving me a sunny sheen
Of course, I am talking about the little brown coffee bean

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