Wine gurgled from the long jugs-

drenched and pampered the tired.

Stories buzzed as clinked the mugs,

songs hummed around the fire.

History swapped in laze chatter,

giggled away past blunders.

That on platter what mattered.

To presaged none surrendered.

The flame would crackle till dawn.

Its glow mingled with red morn.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Rahul Aithal

I am from Mumbai, India. Composing poems gives me immense pleasure. Few poetic sites I write on are -,, and, recently Avant-Garde-Writer's Haven (on Facebook). You could browse my other writes on my private blog, I am glad to have joined this site, thanks to Louis. I hope to add value and get the group going.

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