With apologies to John Steinbeck and my Mama.
In my youth I was willing and able
To drink most folk under the table
I claimed it was genes
Or some other means
That kept me remarkably stable.
But now I’m substantially older
A supposed wise head on my shoulders
Two glasses of wine
Are probably fine
Any more and those grapes say ‘We told her!’
The first time I test out this theory
The grapes get unreasonably leery
2 champagne and 2 wine
At the time I feel fine
But those grapes, they show me no mercy.
The next day is really quite nasty
The worst kind of ‘after party’
I take refuge in bed
With my throbbing head
But the 3 year old still has karate.
My punishment befit the crime
To walk there and stay the whole time
10 kids scream ‘Hai-ya!’
My head is on fire
Please tell me it’s nearly bedtime.
So now that I’ve learnt a big lesson
Albeit through retrospection
My friends Pinot & Riesling
You’ve been wonderfully pleasing
But you’re charged with post-drink aggravation.
There’s no need to call me a bore
My liver will thank me much more
If I choose liquid kale
Over wine or pale ale
And you’ll still find me on the dance floor.
©2017 Seetha Dodd
This is good. Move from prose to poetry?
I can totally relate to this..