THE BOTTLE ON THE SHORE

Having sailed across the seven seas,

It was finally washed ashore;

A little rusty, a little old,

But elegant still with the caress of ages.

I opened up the corked up bottle,

To be welcomed by a whiff of nostalgia;

The familiar scents of a forgotten age

Wafted through the air, into me.

I took a sip, a taste, a gulp,

And let it colour my thirsty palate;

A little sour, a little sweet,

Its hypnotic pull lingered on me.

Too early, too soon, it was emptied;

Its entrancing taste remained but, memories;

The empty bottle I set afloat once more,

To land up in another time, on another shore...