Patron Saints by David MauriceA good pint
clears my head
of all that crap
that confuses the real
issues
I like everything about a pint
From selecting the kind
to the expert way
the tender draws it
The proper half inch of tasty foam
is a soothing balm 'gainst
wintery winds,
whether they be from
nature, or
the lips of babes.
I'm known here
It has it's advantages
I've only to sit down
And I've got a pint glass
in front of me
A cheery smile
in front of me
And the age old mantra
'What's your pleasure'?
ringin' in my ears.
A pint tells a story to me
I look down the bar
to the nearest patron
saint
for the next chapter
We raise our glasses in mutual
admiration
of the drink, or the company
doesn't matter, really
A toast's a toast
there's nothing to do but drink to it.
And we do
That patron
saint
leaves the bar
Smiles, tips his halo to
the serving lass
And stumbles off into the snow
He lost that halo I hear
Tumbled into the gutter
halo forgotten behind
as he wove his way back
to heaven.
I wonder what happened to it?
Hula-hoop for rats?
Bent straight and used to break
into a car?
Doesn't matter really
He can always borrow
mine if he needs it
I sure don't need one
All I need is one more pint
to clear the crap
One more pint
to raise to the next
saint or sinner
The mirror behind the bar
grows dust 08/08/2015 Posted on 08/08/2015 Copyright © 2024 David Maurice
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