Thursday, October 1, 2020

Ode to Gin

Ah! Gracious elixir, good ally gin,

come sit beside me while I rest herein

from chaos and confusion that have been

imposed on me to my chagrin.

Your fragrance alone is an embrace,

of the redolent type (just in case

you’re not aware of your eminent grace

in providing solace from the human race.)

Oh blessed remedy from daytime slight,

with your angelica root you quite delight

and abandon my recent spirit’s blight:

help turn me mellow and pleasingly polite.

Oh divine coriander you do inspire

my better behavior when worldly ire

crushes all hope that we will acquire

once more principles we can admire.

Hurrah to your translucent skill to intox

with your anise flavor that smugly mocks

my penchant to tipsily crack each paradox

with the harebrained reasoning of Goldilocks.

Amen to you sweet silver gin

with crisp berries juniper I can begin

to mull how your taste spurs me to grin,

oh, just a second—did I mean sin?

B.A. Bittingham

Formerly of New York City and South Florida, Brittingham is currently a resident of Southwestern Michigan, as well as a writer who has published essays in the Hartford Courant; short stories in Florida Literary Foundation’s hardcover anthology, Paradise; with the University of Georgia Center for Continuing Education; in the 1996 Florida First Coast Writers’ Festival and in Britain’s World Wide Writers.