‘Twas the Night Before Origin, and all through the house
She was finishing packing: shoes, socks, shirt and blouse
She placed her full backpack by the front door with care
For in spite of the snowstorm she would soon be there
She climbed under the covers, all snug in her bed
While visions of coffee farms danced in her head
She pulled her computer up into her lap
And settled her brain on a Costa Rica map
Then out in the alley there arose such a clutter
She sprang out of her bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window she flew like a flash
She tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon brighly shining on new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
When, what to her wandering eyes did appear
But a big coffee tree, she could see it quite clear
Bright red berries throughout, ripe and ready to pick
She knew in a moment she had to act quick
There was no hesitation, this wasn’t a game
She had to get picking, five pounds was her aim!
Move faster! Reach higher! Now look at her go!
First three pounds! Then four pounds! Now five pounds in tow!
To the top of the mill! Don’t trip, and don’t fall!
We must process and ferment and dry-out them all!
Her eyes how they twinkled, her smile – how merry!
As she carefully sorted and weighed out each cherry
How she picked quite so many she just did not know
What a miracle it was, how much one tree could grow grow
Just then she awoke, and recounted her dream
A coffee tree in Boston? What a sight to have seen!
One thing was for certain, she knew she would soon be
In Costa Rica on a real-life coffee picking spree!