Ode To A Wobbly Pop

O, golden nectar, blessed elixir of drunk-texting
Resting serenely in a pale blue goblet
Dew-drops of condensation balancing on the shapely curves of my glass;
Would that I had Jedi mind powers and could will you to rise to my eager, waiting mouth
To pour your glittering goodness down my throat.

The joy you bring to me, your cooling balm soothes the burning within me
And though I will want another, and then another in quick succession,
The uneven gait of your tell-tale alcohol content gives me pause;
For I do not wish to look a drunkard in front of the new neighbors.

And so I content myself with a solitary glass, savouring each drop
Like the happy little mouth party they are,
Watching the level sinking in my glass is bittersweet
For I long to keep you with me,
My glass of liquid sunshine.