Come Fill the Cup
Come Fill The Cup
Come fill the cup
with the mystical wine
that turns man into boy again;
That splices wings
to the heels of an old dancer
yielding leaping arcs above the main;
That endows a vibrant voice
with a worn and aging throat,
to sing a sweet dulcet refrain;
That rejuvenates fading vision
in dry and tearless eyes
to see roses blush in the rain;
That infuses weary fingertips
with hot, sensuous purpose
to arouse her again and again.
That removes the numbness
from a dormant tongue
to freshly taste youth's champagne;
I filled the cup to the brim
from the cask of her inspiring love
to shed years, fears - and the pain.
Copyright © John Newlin | Year Posted 2018
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