Tuesday's Poem: "Sunday Morning Breakfast Time" by Cole Porter

Here's to the piping porridge,
Here's to the biscuits hot,
Here's to the java
Flowing like lava
Out of the coffee pot.
Here's to the eggs and bacon,
Here's to the waffles unique,
And here's and here's
Three rousing cheers
For the best meal of the week.

For it's Sunday morning breakfast time,
The time all men adore!
Why don't the poets go into rhyme
And rave about it more?
For only then can a man forget
The sweat and the worries of his bane-
Ful lot as he calmly enjoys his toast
And most of Arthur Brisbane.
Breakfast time on other days
Means bolting at fever heat,
But on Sunday morning, there's the time
When a man has time to eat- and eat,
When a man has time to...
... Breakfast is served.

- Cole Porter

If, like me, your weekday breakfast is coffee in a cubicle, I dedicate this poem to us.
Is there anything sweeter than lovely weekend breakfasts?
I hope the memories of past and anticipation of future little breakfast and brunch moments buoy you today.

(above pictured breakfast is oatmeal and spiced apples)