Because it wouldn’t be Poetry Month if I didn’t wax rhapsodical about Jaegermeister, especially because I have yet another sore throat and cough, and it is medicinal, after all π
A nonnet is a nine line poem, with the first line comprised of nine syllables, the second line eight and so on down. It’s one of my favourite forms to write, and I enjoying making the shape of the dwindling lines match the theme; in this case, it represents the shot glass draining.
If you prefer your Jaegermeister in different form, my recipe for Jaegermeister sorbet is here.
Green glass bottle lovingly removed
from the freezer, hoarfrost clouding
the familiar label as
anticipation builds
elixir tossed back
glass drained quickly
welcome warmth
savoured
Prost!
Hope it heals you fast!
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Thank you–if drink enough if it, I won’t care if I’m suck π
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isn’t that the purpose π
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And by the looks of the typos in my first response, one would think I am well on my way to being cured π
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Blech.
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Blech? Sacrilege! π
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Traumatic experience with someone else drinking it.
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Gotcha. That’s different, you’re off the hook.
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