I was awake
when the barrels
creaked with their
oaken aging.
They lay in warm
damp darkness,
sighing with
wooden laughter.
I sat in their cellar,
awaiting the day
when we would be
tapped, they and I -
our froth and foam
and rich flavor
given to the world.
Author notes
My word is "ferment".
A contest entry
- Welcome to My Word...Won't you come on in 2 by RuthKephart.
600 points, ended December 18, 2007, 13 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me things. Lots of things.
Comments
-
Beautiful use of the word prompt. Great imagery here. I love how you've compaired yourself to aged liquor, refined and in full flavor. Be aware though, not everyone has the distinguished taste it takes to reconginze fine liquor, fine poetry, or a fine person
Thank you for the entry and best wishes in the contest
Ruth
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