Ode to a Lava Lamp or Two

On my desk I have a lamp of lava
It's so cold outside I would like a java
But at least I'm inside so I don't need a bella clava.
Many would wonder, "What has lava to do with the weather?"
And I would say, "That's a dumb question, my, you are on a short teather."
Indeed I think your brain must be as a feather.
For by the window is my lava lamp
Where all the time it is very cold and damp
(over which my tears I cannot tamp.)
For in Alaska the wind blows cold
And it's surprising that any real estate gets sold.
Excuse me if that is being too bold.
But what draws them is the permanent fund
That makes them more and more rotund
Although slightly more jocund.
But back to the subject at hand
My lamp is a bluish bland
But by the window it's a whole new land.
Purple it shines in colors intense
The light as bright as this state is immense
And there it glows without pretense.
If only my lamp of lava
could be a mocha breve java.