Quaff Quaff: does Emily have a cold?

Yeah, I'm shameless but what can you do?  Bon vivant poet, scholar, photograph and friend Jonathan Morse, who annoyingly lives in Hawaii--come on, Morse, suffer with the rest of us!--sent me a belated birthday tribute to Emily Dickinson. It's the above photo (Attachment0.jpg to its friends) with appropriate reference and caption, "Quaff   Quaff."

I fell into the photo and of course am already blissfully mired in the honey (mired in the honey?) of Emily. More of Morse's photography and can be located through his blog The Art Part.


We -- Bee and I -- live by the quaffing --

'Tisn't all Hock -- with us --

Life has its Ale --

But it's many a lay of the Dim Burgundy --

We chant -- for cheer -- when the Wines -- fail --



Do we "get drunk"?

Ask the jolly Clovers!

Do we "beat" our "Wife"?

I -- never wed --

Bee -- pledges his -- in minute flagons --

Dainty -- as the trees -- on our deft Head --



While runs the Rhine --

He and I -- revel --

First -- at the vat -- and latest at the Vine --

Noon -- our last Cup --

"Found dead" -- "of Nectar" --

By a humming Coroner --

In a By-Thyme!
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Fr244, Emily Dickinson, (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886), The "She" of American poetry