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.

πŸ’–πŸ’₯πŸ’§πŸ’¦πŸ‚πŸ‘πŸ

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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