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Happy Hour

Five p.m. is Happy Hour
We buy some drinks for others
Alcoholic fellowship has made us into brothers...
Back at work at nine a.m. ~ Whiskey's memory's sour

drinkfriendshiphappyenclosed rhyme

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Sandra Adams

August 26, 2019 at 6:58 AM

hey it's always 5 o'clock somewhere right? this takes me back to my youthful years when alcohol didn't bother me... good write :) hugs

Gershon Wolf

August 26, 2019 at 11:38 AM

I managed to avoid Happy Hour, although I did drink a little 'till I was about 30 or so... :) gw

Arturo Michael

August 26, 2019 at 5:45 AM

Nice one

Gershon Wolf

August 26, 2019 at 11:39 AM

Thanks, Arturo

Kim Rodrigues

August 26, 2019 at 4:49 AM

That feeling cannot be sustained.

Gershon Wolf

August 26, 2019 at 11:39 AM

Exactly right! Unsustainable. Either one gets the blues or just floats away, so to speak... :) gw

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart

August 25, 2019 at 2:47 PM

There is a certain comradery created around the watering hole, i dare say elemental to the bike courier scene, fond memories (and blackouts) ;), Enjoyed, deer poet! xomo

Gershon Wolf

August 25, 2019 at 4:15 PM

Yes, there is that elemental camaraderie... Thanks for the reminder, my friend! :) gw

Happy Hour

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