Poem: Skol

 

Skol

 

aged

through decadent flavors,

the sins of wine grow light,

 

devils and angels

slip robes to kiss,

happy in their error.

 

we revellers

of doomed heat,

we soon-starved flames,

 

let our lusts savor

and flare to quest,

down to the last dregs

of clove, nutmeg,

and thyme.

a cup, then!

 

to that first seductive sip,

down to the last glooming frisson

of spent shudders.

 

a cup, yes!  let us drink,

brave as this fair moment 

portrays.

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10/22/25 eds

7/15/25 changed a word

7/1/25 ... mods

4/14/25 ... changed up the spice line