WINE GLASS
Upon my desk there sits a wine glass, empty now, Yet in times past, and in times future full it has been. Sweet nectar of the Gods has it held, along with the not so fine, The best I have drank, the worst I have poured. Light reflected and refracted, sun bright turned rainbow hues, All the glass needs is to be washed and stored, not broken. Yet in an instance of anger or misadventure, shattered could be, Tis a simple goblet, plain and curvy, simple taper. Not etched, nor embossed or enameled,... Sign in to see full entry.