Penning Constituents

The hour was late, steeped in shadows,
I sat out under the stars and the October moon,
pondering as I did in the old days,
where my words had wondered.

Corked like wine, aged,
I thought it was time, I took a taste,
pour myself into a glass and have a look,
a sniff, a wiff, a sip or two or three.

Indeed I found, nectar’s bliss,
a mental kiss, oh how I have missed,
the twists and the twists inside of me,
parts that no one sees.

Here again, just like old friends, 
I find the echoes of who I am,
layers of lines, deeply twined,
How truly sweet the taste.

SJW