The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide

Into Winterberry Ash

Caught upon an evening Pass the arms on edge Of rocking chair trails reeling Sipping away into fairy tale Wild off, cool life teas Melting ice, and lemon veranda breeze By and by bloomers chase In and out, of innocent days To the last of Indian summer And brittle beneath awakes Crying boards that ever creak As all familiar remembers A voice bone deep, is missed Rattles toward the center And out pass the winds and placid lake September “Oh, dear Evelyn” our dreams Hung under wind chime tingles Trace love amid soft autumns twinkle No longer songbird melodies braid In early morning after children Now shadow, in the splashes of sunning place Timepiece is now the empty grass Once with, now without you As I end a road that leads nearer to your path And sooner wither folds Under snow, bird angels holding hands High into winterberry ash
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

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March 20, 2012 at 7:00 AM
Thank you for adding your spices to the soup today Michael. I am enjoying reading all the appetizing poetry posted here today. Have a wonderful week. May inspiration hit the tip of your pen and never let go. Love, Carol
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The Whiskey Taster’s Flavor Guide
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