The heady scent,
Of a long cold pint.
That first sip,
Ahhhh.
I can feel it,
Coursing through my veins.
As the glass,
Slowly empties,
I cannot help but mourn,
For as much as I would love,
Another healing brew,
I know I mustn't,
For early I must rise.
So I slowly leave the bar,
and something in me dies.
R.M. Alexander
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-beauty-of-a-beer/
