Whiskey With Water
In the cool moonlight I stand aware
Of morning stirring from its deep slumber,
You, your face painted like fine lusterware,
Lay with your eyes holding faint sombre,
On the edge of the blackberry water,
That glistens dark purple like my fresh bruise
Blooming as he knocks back the firewater,
Coming down the pathway singing the blues,
At the still fountain, we cower, waiting,
The stars darting in your royal eye,
Waiting to be found, softly swimming
In icy water colours of blue lias,
The cunning water welcomes me gently,
I go under, watching you intently.
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