I sense the smoke
I taste the Peat.
My tongue caresses
each drop so sweet
The golden Goblet
in my hand
says to the cold and damp
“Be dammed”
While by the fireside
I sip and play
some favored songs
from yesterday.

In my father’s Father’s time
The violin sang
a tune to time
Grandfather too
would raise a glass
to toast the cruel winds
of Loughhesh.