From the port in my refrigerator door
The tiny particles of Ice shower my wrist
and the hairs tingle upright in their pores
And the cubes fall in with a tinkling sound
And fill the mason jar up and then mounds
To the top then the frost laden surface gives way
To the brown spiced rum sprinkled over,
The liquor polishes and smooths the icy cold cubes
And waits in the bottom for the shower
bubbling forth from the ginger ale spout
whose bubbles and froths carry the spirits
about in this one pint container full of
Till the nose hovers over
nostrils tickled with CO2 dew
And the lips gather the rim
and suction the brew over watering
tongue and the mouth rejoices anew.
And a hearty chuckle breaks through
As the mood rises oer the days strife!
I hope I know when enough is enough !