I taste a liquor never brewed –
From Tankards scooped in Pearl –
Not all the Frankfort Berries
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 Tippler
Leaning against the – Sun!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Magical Mystery Poem # 2
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4 comments:
How funny!! I just read that a couple of days ago! ( That makes it unfair, perhaps, because of bizarre circumstances)
But yes, it is both magical and mysterious!
Congrats, Queen of A&E!
I award you The Foolish Knight Virtual High Five of Feel-Goodness because even though you didn't say that the poem was "I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed" by Emily Dickinson, I know that you know (that I know that you know) that that's the answer!
Wow, don't it feel good to feel good about feeling cultured?
Why yes, of course it does, and thanks to you for the 'high-five'!
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