Upon the misty mountain's peak, where morning dew kisses leaf so sleek, coffee cherries start to speak, of a tale that every farmer seeks.
In sun-kissed fields, they softly grow, bathing in dawn's tender glow, Green to red, and sometimes gold, in nature's hands, beauty unfolds.
Whispers of rain, and sun’s warm hello, coax the beans, in shadows they wallow, from bloom to harvest, a rhythm slow, a symphony of life, in each coffee bough.
Harvest's hand with gentle swoon, picks each bean under the moon, the heart of mountains in a tune, in every coffee farmer's blessed boon.
