I know it is there,
Hidden from the view of others,
It sits in the dark,
Just waiting for me.
This glorious friend
That can do me no wrong,
Always there,
Waiting for that time
When I need it before me,
To enjoy its wonderful companionship.
I open the cupboard door,
And there it sits
In all its glory,
This nectar from Scotland.
Pure and untarnished.
I coax it gently
Into a crystal glass,
Raise it to my nose,
To inhale
Its mesmerising, smoky scent.
I take a sip,
And roll this glory
Round my mouth
In absolute rapture.
It arouses my taste buds
To a state of ecstasy.
Slowly it slides down my throat,
Its warmth and love,
Coating my soul with joy.
My wonderful scotch,
My Laphroaig.