Of the Finest Vintage!!!

In each moment a fresh temptation,
A new falling, and the old fall are ingrained;
All good in us in borne by intention;
As the heart of a sad tune beats in the refrain,
So virtue lives in our will to abstain.

Joy, once found, once lost, now redeemed
Is alive in the innermost hearts’ grave;
Where, for a price paid in blood, we may read
The Name, on hard stone ever engraved
By the sacrifice of the One we betrayed.


Here we are, here we are. This is a poem for the ages. One of my own creations, pulled from the cellar of my aged and musty soul, uncorked, decanted and set before you for your gustatory pleasure. Drink it in, drink it in.
I still remember the day I wrote it. It was so sunny, so humid. I sat, wallowing in my brokenness. I was pining after a certain young lady, too fair for me by far. The pursuit of her was long. She was very sensible to resist me. My will, broken and haggard hung at my side like a dull, knicked sword. What a blessed fool, to be so young, so in love. And now, old, haunted by the memories of sins long past, dogged by the wheezing sins of decrepitude, I come back again to my utter powerlessness. What a fool I have been. I would not change it for the world.
We were married, yes, we were married. Oh, how she bore my wild drunken poetic frenzies, as I peered into my raging heart to extract the sweet distillation of authentic verse. Our children took the brunt of my foolishness, and would have taken more, if not for her. She holds me together still, all these long years in the grave, and she holds me still. All the betrayal, and she holds me still.