Dry Land

I have reached dry land at last
For too long adrift
Afloat, but only just, my leaking boat
So small and without mast, upon an ocean vast
Storm-tossed, and so often nearly lost

They say that one can drown in water one inch deep
To fall forever asleep, marble-slab pale
Was I drowning in ale? Or,
Stout or wine or spirit divine?
But I survived, from drunken  stupor revived
Saw the folly of my liquidity
And just in time, put an end to this stupidity

Drier than Saharan plain
My pickled brain and liver now recover
Nothing wetter than water
Or coffee, strong and black and bitter
I’m so much fitter
And in the morning, waving not drowning
Glad to be sober, feeling in clover
Instead of hung-over
And so much drier
I have reached dry land at last

© 2015 Bruford Low