I taste a liquor never brewed
I taste a liquor never brewed --
From Tankards scooped in Pearl --
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air -- am I --
And Debauchee of Dew --
Reeling -- thro endless summer days --
From inns of Molten Blue --
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door --
When Butterflies -- renounce their "drams"
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats --
And Saints -- to windows run --
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the -- Sun --
Oh, and here's the conversation I had with her:
Emily, sober up, slow down
we can’t keep up --
Just what are you drinking?
(I need a cup to pull this off) --
Look what you’ve done --
lines light as air, words dropped like dew --
We, reeling, feeling the brilliance
on our cloudy faces --
Now gather the lovely flowers,
brush the bees and butterflies
away; these blooms belong to us,
don’t they, we’re heady with their fragrance
And even angels are jealous
and the saints can only watch --
Your merry dance, stepped solemnly --
with your partner -- Brother Sun.