Tuesday, May 07, 2013

A Poem by Henricus Clavis

Morning
Hence the day precedes my waking,
when at last I rise for work.
To the sink I move a-shaking,
searching for the bourbon’s cork.
Here I find my earthly comfort.
Cold the glass my lips do touch.
Ready when the shakes are dun-fer.
Thus I start my day to rush.

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