I pour a glass of the amber liquid
Softener of memories,
Play, "The White Rose of Athens",
Again and again,
Blending memories of fantasies
With great Kentucky bourbon
Staring into a moonlit darkness,
Across a sea of moving
Silver tipped hills,
Seeing a face
Hidden in the moon,
Until,
Finally,
The music fades to silence,
The lonesome bottle,
Faithful dead soldier,
Stands empty guard
Over full and floating dreams,
Bathed by
Softly remembered moonlight,
Shining in another life
Which never happened,
But in desires and wishes,
Hearing one last echo of,
"Till the white rose blooms again..."
Turning with a sigh,
I pick up my pen,
And write the words...
"I pour a glass of the amber liquid..."
Donovan Baldwin