Whisky warm and brown,
Poured gentle in my glass,
Not just to gulp it down.

A little buzz it brings,
A lighter, looser feel,
The way my spirit sings.

Ice clinks a chilly song,
Or neat, a fiery kiss,
Where I belong.

Just a sip or two,
That's all I really need,
To see the world anew.

So here’s to me
seriously.
Cheers.

Whisky in my tea,
When cold bites and wind blows
A deep sip soothes me.

Henry Moore, the sculptor
has in his kitchen an original
Picasso
on the wall above the fridge
so every time he made a cuppa
he was reminded of his friend
not a fancy canvas in a frame
but a drawing on A4 sketch pad page
you can imagine the pair of them
discussing art and Henry giving
some small token to Pablo
of his work
and saying you know you should
paint some blue cows
it'll be good for you
you can invent the Emperor's new clothes
as often as you want
if you're a genius
and they would laugh over a glass
of whisky
Pablo went on to give life, of sorts
to his blue cows
oh, and I used to deliver whisky
to Henry Moore's house

The taste
of my cigar
and the whiskey in my
gullet can't fill the pit inside
my chest

Whiskey
dark chocolate,
smooth jazz, and some gritty
poetry are all that I need
tonight

Seven inches of good intentions
Half a cup of decent fears
A grain of luck, a pinch of faith
A teaspoon full of laughter’s tears

One sip of ruban tempered whisky
Half a pint of well placed bets
A piece of blue sky from the east
A small box labeled "No Regrets"

Does this hand you rhyme or reason
Does it really ease the pain
I don't know… oh I can't tell
If it will be boon or bane  

The forests’ seasonal changing colors
One single fateful step outside
A glassmade handle on the tailgate
Keep off from the road behind

Seven inches of clean conditions
Half a glass of deep red wine
A thimble guts, a pinch of glory
A small box labeled "Days of Shine"

Does this ease the pain
does it hand you a break
I can’t tell you - I don't know
If there’s a perfect mix and shake

Oh I don't know, I can't define
But the notion sounds quite tempting…
to a worried heart like mine

At the end of the world😔😔...
let's take a picture like this...
save it on clouds ...
restore it later.....
on streets of heaven let's meet🤫🤫🤫....
we kiss for once,
for both of us and for eternity

A man is always looking
To get some free advice
So go and find the fellow
Drinking whiskey over ice

Your friends will tell you one thing
While you're both knocking back a beer
But really, I mean really
Is this the stuff you need to hear

Find a whiskey drinker
He'll tell you how to buy a car
He'll share his whiskey wisdom
About what's a good cigar

A man who drinks good whiskey
Whether neat or over ice
Is the best one you can turn to
When you're looking for advice

He's made it and he knows it
He's not drinking at the pub
He's sitting in a wing back
Drinking whiskey at the club

So, if you're looking for assistance
And you need some good advice
Go get some whiskey wisdom
Sharing whiskey over ice

He sat down
by the bar with a bottle of
whiskey.
And while the angels sang
he listened
to the preachings
of a crooked bartender
Whose days were filled with drunk forgotten nights,
and he knew
for first time
that he has
never felt more
close to God.

She is making tea for her poet-husband.
Wondering what her husband is writing.
Once he wrote "Charm floats on her cheeks,
like a paper boat on the water.
Dipping and dancing."
Or maybe he is writing something ***** on her.
Like once he wrote -
"Between her thighs is the temple
where I belong."

She is making tea for her poet-husband
thinking he wants to impress her again.
She can hear his pen tapping his teeth.
But she can not see whisky on his table and
she can not see he is watching her sister
as he writes.