Improving with Age

For my declining years,
I would very much like
to be laid down in a cellar
or other darkened room.

Handpicked visitors
will come to appreciate
my full-bodied roundness
and my singular bouquet.*

Those bounders and boundettes
will smack their lips and say
No, Sir! They don't make 'em
like this anymore!

They will come to savour
my remarkable depth of flava.
Maybe not to everybody's taste,
this remarkable vintage:
microaggressive on the palate
when paired with hare,
Chewit or shallot.

Lying undisturbed in dust,
the fermented must of memories.
Cobwebs may accumulate
around my outer shell.

I'm improving with age.
Uncork me!
What the hell...


B.R. 15/01/2020

* aka indescribable stench

Chewie the dinosaur takes on New York before settling down to enjoy his store of multi-coloured chewy sweets with a leathery Shiraz