Rye Whiskey, Rye Whiskey

Snug in the corner I saw the lad lie,
Fire in his belly and a cork in his eye;
Wordlessly sleeping, a-snooze in his bed,
His words, when awakened, go straight to your head.

Alluring to look at, golden is he,
There when you need him as sure as can be;
Anxious to aid you, he doesn't think twice,
For the cost of his concert your soul is the price.

Then tell him to go now, bid him goodbye;
Allow him to slumber, let sleeping dogs lie!
Tell him his concord you are shooing away,
The lad with the nostrum may no longer stay.

Time he was leaving, show him the door!
A flagon of whiskey a-smash on the floor.


Comments

Alan S Jeeves's picture
Words are a wonderful tool for us BB. I used the (unusual) word 'nostrum' in this poem in the context that excess alcohol is a make-believe cure for all one's ills and woes. I came across this word quite a few years ago when casually reading about medicine shows in the U.S.A. The travelling 'doctors' would sell their bottles of cure-all which was basically a bottle of coloured water. I loved the term nostrum and vowed to use it one day. However, this is the only time I have done so. As for 'bilk', You are going back to last August and another of my riddle poems. I used bilk as a way of explaining that I had cheated the devil's advocate out of his ruse. Unlike nostrum, Bilk had to be a rhyming word (with milk) and I'm afraid that it's the best I could do. I hope that you enjoyed reading these little stories, they are fun to write. Your welcome comment is very kind to me. Best regards, Alan

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