The last glass of Shiraz
The cattle on a thousand hills
nestle against silent macrocarpa limbs
as dusk creeps over the horizon.
My gaze lingers on a settled harbour
boats nodding in the last rays of the day,
dogs bark from a distant farm,
drowning out the turkeys warble.
ππ₯π§π¦πππ
See you in the morning,
hills of grace,
skies of serenity,
waters of friendship.
Wake me up life,
in all your fullness,
with deep cups of caffeine in the dawn's parting light,
as I bid a hearty good night,
to the last glass of Shiraz.
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