For Greeks, ambrosia was OK,
But used up all a sailor's pay.
Then, in a more enlightened age,
Tars worked for grog instead of wage.
But as for me, I love to hug
A good old Navy coffee mug.
Its fragrance cuts the salty air
And wafts me far away from there.
It's best when made so it can stand
Without the mug, just in your hand,
And crusted mugs from watches back
Are germ free, if your coffee's black.
Beware the canned milk on the bridge;
It's likely never seen a fridge,
And if it fails to pour or run,
It's left from World War Two (OR ONE!).
But don't spill coffee on your boots;
Your socks will soon start growing roots.
And if it penetrates the deck,
The panicked crew could cause a wreck.
Way down below, the engine crew
Prefers an even stronger brew,
And sometimes as they ply their craft,
They use the stuff to grease the shaft.
When Navy coffee's thick and black.
It guards against a heart attack.
And if it's strong enough, I'm sure,
It functions as a cancer cure.
But best of all, it makes the days,
Pass quickly in a caffeine haze,
Before your teeth have all turned brown,
You'll find you're back in Norfolk town!