The Guest

Once again, I greet my noble guest

With wine aged to fend the autumn chill.

What thoughts dwell in comrades’ minds,

As we laugh together, bantering into the eve?

Our days are like the morning dew,

It’s sad to think how quickly gone.

Long we share both the bitter and sweet,

Five, six cups, our sermons mostly clear.

Our worldly weariness slowly fading,

What better moment to cherish than this?

But then time comes to take our leave,

We ask ourselves how this can be?

The setting sun may signal an ending,

But a keen friend is rare and to treasure.

So, let’s make one last pour,

Then part and say nothing more.

© 2023, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.