Robert Lindley Poet Rhyme

A Home Brew Fiasco

A Home Brew Fiasco

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for this kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Sun was about set into its rosy red glow
three hills over was square dance and show
I set me a mighty happy and quickened pace
so very eager to get to that dancing place!

I hear that fast fiddle singing from afar
stop to drink last liquor from my fruit jar
Another burn that went down mighty fine
whiskey my favorite, never cottoned to wine!

One more high hill to just climb on past
swirling head tells my legs to please last
Sun has set and darkness so rapidly falls
music rings louder its beckoning calls!

Another hundred steps and I'll be there
singing, dancing and pretty gals everywhere
Ease myself up against this restful oak tree
surely a rest will be so very good for me!

Eyes heavy and dark clouds coming on down 
now is no time to worry, no time to frown
Darkness races into this tired old brain
no worries, rest easy avoid all the strain!

Morning sunlights breaks between the trees
O' my, pray I didn't sleep all night please
Suddenly I hear the morning call of a dove
I missed out on last night's dance and love!

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for that kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Robert J. Lindley , 08-21-2014

Inspired by a story my uncle told me back in 
1965. How grandfather once made moonshine and 
missed out on his first date with grandmother.
Luckily she was a forgiving woman and grandfather
a very handsome man or else they'd never married
and I would not be here to sling tha' ink!

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Carol Eastman November 19, 2014 at 9:07 AM Such a story teller you are... A delightful piece! Loved it all the way thru.

Monterey Sirak August 24, 2014 at 8:37 AM A great way to tell a story. It is good that Grandma forgave him and you are now here to share your poetry.

Faye Gibson August 22, 2014 at 4:38 PM Funny, Robert. My dad would tell a story about watching the revenuers after a group of moonshiners. The moonshiners hid their brew hoping they wouldn't lose it, but my dad and his friends got it. Can't remember what they did with it, but he loved to tell the tale.

Andrea Dietrich August 22, 2014 at 1:25 AM haha, and at the end of it all, his last thought was he wished he knew how to make that brew. Good and funny one.

Dr. Upma A. Sharma August 21, 2014 at 10:33 PM Wow a sweet n sober write Robert!loved to read ,,smooth n rhythmic r ur poems always,, a reader's delight!