You sit encased, bottle of glass
golden color, full of promise
your age a bizarre younger class
than brethren cross same lips do kiss
poured strongly into cup
and double strongly across palate
after suffering quite the nose
the spirits lifted up
aged past prime strangely no minute
and complex flavors do compose
in silence amber company you keep
the age irrelevant with mysteries held deep
Friday, April 29, 2011
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