For Some Whisky He Went Frisky
From him you can snatch a fable:
Just place whisky on his table;
He could stories quicken their pace,
In the hearer’s hearts create space
Wherever he stops Audience wait,
As only he reopens Gate …
They say that it flows in the blood
His room story lovers would flood …
But I hold His Gift from whisky;
For some whisky, he went frisky.
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