Dear bottle, thank you for having once contained bourbon, nature's most perfect drink, which courses now through my veins, inspiring poetry and great works of fiction that shall be forgotten as soon as this pleasant buzz has subsided . . .
...Bourbon, oh Bourbon, muse of the blues musician, flavor of my mom's pecan pie and polite excuse of the southern matron as she slips the bonds of acceptable behavior...
. . . I should not love you so, and yet I cannot turn away from your embrace. Bacchus, in all his frenzy, may keep his grape. I shall ever turn to the mash of corn, drinking deep, and following its path through me so I might again commune with my own soul . . .
Large was its bounty, its spirits sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely spent: It gave to Misery all it had, a tear, It gained from Heaven ('twas all it wish'd) a friend.
No farther seek its merits to disclose, Or draw its failings from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The belly of the drinker stumbling home.
…Oh ethanol of the spirit, oil of conversation that puts a song in the hearts of the shy and brings Christmas cheer to the most devout non-theist, contributor to Kentucky’s per-capita income, I have so often brought your kiss of fire to my lips and your soft warmth to my soul. Goodbye dear love, and let me only promise that the bottle that replaces you will be welcomed with equal affection…
O muse of firewater Grief's boon companion (Morrow's bitter pain) Heaven was ascended Paradise besieged (A dream, mayhap... I'll know by friends averted gaze and smirks) Wisdom was ravished Knowledge expanded (lord knows what those insights were) Adieu, passing friend-- I'll fondly remember each finger kiss.
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Dear bottle, thank you for having once contained bourbon, nature's most perfect drink, which courses now through my veins, inspiring poetry and great works of fiction that shall be forgotten as soon as this pleasant buzz has subsided . . .
...you were the giver of stolen French kisses and the taker of the blinders of sound reason and good sense...
...Bourbon, oh Bourbon, muse of the blues musician, flavor of my mom's pecan pie and polite excuse of the southern matron as she slips the bonds of acceptable behavior...
. . . I should not love you so, and yet I cannot turn away from your embrace. Bacchus, in all his frenzy, may keep his grape. I shall ever turn to the mash of corn, drinking deep, and following its path through me so I might again commune with my own soul . . .
(apologies to Thomas Gray)
Large was its bounty, its spirits sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely spent:
It gave to Misery all it had, a tear,
It gained from Heaven ('twas all it wish'd) a friend.
No farther seek its merits to disclose,
Or draw its failings from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The belly of the drinker stumbling home.
…Oh ethanol of the spirit, oil of conversation that puts a song in the hearts of the shy and brings Christmas cheer to the most devout non-theist, contributor to Kentucky’s per-capita income, I have so often brought your kiss of fire to my lips and your soft warmth to my soul. Goodbye dear love, and let me only promise that the bottle that replaces you will be welcomed with equal affection…
Hail to thee, void spirits!
Muse thou never wert—
Yet from heaven or near it
Poured thou full my heart
In profuse streams of unpremedicated art.
O muse of firewater
Grief's boon companion
(Morrow's bitter pain)
Heaven was ascended
Paradise besieged
(A dream, mayhap...
I'll know by friends
averted gaze and smirks)
Wisdom was ravished
Knowledge expanded
(lord knows what
those insights were)
Adieu, passing friend--
I'll fondly remember
each finger kiss.
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