She brings me
mandarin liqueur,
the fruit grown
in her own garden.
I pour it into
a crystal sherry glass.
(All my liqueur glasses
are broken or lost – except
the one I keep as a chalice
in my travelling altar:
a sandalwood box with also
a tiny dagger, incense,
a round white stone,
a small quartz point,
a woven cloth
to set them out on…)
The texture is lush, the taste
bursts on the roof of my mouth
both rich and delicate, spicy
and sweet. I breathe it in.
Sharing with dVerse Open Link Night #388 And, as I was late that time and most people missed it, again at Open Link Night #392.
Cheers! Thanks for sharing that sensory experience of the madarin liqueur.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Grace. My pleasure!
DeleteA sensory delight! I don't think I've ever had mandarin liqueur.
ReplyDeleteI had never had it before. I think it may have been my friend's own recipe.
DeleteA lovely poem!
ReplyDeleteDelighted you enjoyed it!
DeleteHow delicious that sip seems and a wonderful glimpse of your cheers moment - Jae
ReplyDeleteOne of the most delicious things I've ever tasted!
DeleteRituals and treasures, the loving ornaments of life!
ReplyDeleteOh, such a lovely way to put it!
DeleteOh my goodness, I needs me some of this mandarin elixir!! *smacks lips*
ReplyDeleteI think we all do! But not generally available and I don't know the recipe.
DeleteSounds like a tasty potion. Perhaps, it could heal our weary hearts.
ReplyDeleteIt certainly helped in the moment!
DeleteSome things are only memories packed in that traveling altar - but there's a chalice to recall it and this poem to say it.
ReplyDeleteThank you; so beautifully put.
DeleteA delightful sip, Rosemary!
ReplyDeleteSmile. Glad you enjoyed.
Delete