November wine tears slowly on the glass
It’s good with mem’ries, better still alone
Its forming-falling droplets encompass
Both sweet and bitter, its burnt orange tone
Is tingling senses, oily on the tongue
November lingers, sunshine lost among
Long-legged trees is gently sipping through
Church windows, body’s
rich and soul is calm
The half-full glass of autumn waits for you
Come, take this moment, stroke it with your palm
Let all the seasoned flavorings entwine
Themselves around you, taste November wine.
Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")
prompted by Poetic Asides
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