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Turning Water Into Wine
Poetry can be like turning water into wine
drinkers should sip in contemplated taste
layers of multiple meaning oak cask aged
can be shared with a fine meal in company.
Yet never forget shallow drafts intoxicate
fog brain when empty stomach consumed
in desert climes water best served in purity
prevents stupification by fluid articulate vine.
Wine seasoned too well is sweet melody not engaged.
True elixir manipulates feelings stirs emotions in throat
time melts into shadows skin tissues peeled mind teased.
Medicines can be raw mind game bitter taste believed.
Harsh stick in throat taste perceived judgement cured
body rebels at infusions infection fights incentive lured.
poem
by
Terence George Craddock
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