Everyday when we go to drink our coffee,
My wife and I have our own assigned mugs
That we place in a consistent spot we
Can find before drinking our drugs.
Leading up to our liquid caffeine
In an effort to hinder delay.
We’ve formed a substantial routine
That keeps us on track day to day.
But sometimes my mug is taken
By a guest who’s come to our house.
I’ll feel robbed, like there was a break in,
And look over to my spouse
Who sees my lost and forlorn look.
The corners of my mouth won’t turn up
‘Cause my own guest went and took
A hold of my favorite cup.
BonjourPoetry 
You ought to add a photo of your mug 🙂
Good idea Alex. Mine’s the one with my name on it. My wife’s is directly next to it. I’m not a huge fan of the mugs on the upper shelf because I can’t comfortably get 2 fingers through the handle. Perhaps that’s another poem altogether though.
ummmm. I hope I wasn’t the guest? Ummmm my name is ummm An… and I did not maybe read the whole thing. Sorry Guilty
No specific guest in mind. 🙂 Your welcome to visit and use your thumb to cover up the “dy” on the mug anytime.
I also heard something on the radio about tea etiquette, and how your not supposed to put your finger through the tea cup handle, and the pinky is out for balance. hmm. Haven’t heard anything like that for coffee cup etiquette.