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The Really Old Bushmills
By johntaiyu
The really old Bushmills
was the shot I'd have
to celebrate
St. Patrick's day
at my home bar,
year after year.
Even after I gave up shots,
I'd still have that one.
Because when you kick back
a whiskey
that slides warm and soft
down your throat
and then spreads out
across your chest
with gladness
and good tidings for all
you get a little glimpse
of what you think
heaven is like.
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
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© 2006 johntaiyu
Published on Monday, March 13, 2006.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "The Really Old Bushmills"
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A former member wrote:
Black Bush is fav o' mine.
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On Monday, March 13, 2006, Christopher7xii
(20)
wrote:
Heh, nice. I generally hate alcohol, but this gives a nice friendly aura to it. Kind of makes me rethink enjoying St. Patty's full out with the company of friends.
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A former member wrote:
I feel as if i'm in familiar company. Makes me think of shit eating grins, warm ears, and getting drunk and solving the worlds problems. This one really hit home,
even though i'm prodominately Scottish decent. Close enough, I guess.
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A former member wrote:
I don't drink whiskey but I love St. Patrick's Day and I loved your poem.
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