Watching each day, on the porch across the way,
He sipped from his homemade brew.
From the first warm spring rain, from flowers he'd strain,
Sweet wines, with flavors so new.
As the days pined away, taking in all that he'd say,
From children to manhood we grew.
His memory is clear, and lessons taught we still fear,
Sweet wines, with such special hues.
But a price you will pay, by sipping wine all the day,
Your days will be shortened a few.
The lesson he taught, and one soon forgot,
How its poision will slowly kill you.