A Bit of a Wobble
It was judgment hour at the village show:
I was volunteered as they thought I'd know
how to discern between eight small bottles
of rhubarb and ginger vodka tipples.
Tasting just a sip from each of the eight,
I puzzled over a method to rate
just which was the best, then second and third.
I knew which was first but my memory blurred
the flavour of others. So what to do?
I looked for sediment, for clarity too,
but couldn't decide without more tastings
of others before making the placings.
Each one I sipped seemed better than the last
so should the one given first now be recast?
I looked at my jottings and scratched my head
as my mind now fuzzy was losing the thread.
I stuck with the first but with others so fine
placing second and third was hard to assign.
For each of the eight who entered a bottle
thanks from the judge with a bit of a wobble.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
