Grain plucked,
Grain smoked.
Damp peat,
Fire stoked.
Hot water,
Sugar steeped.
Creature added,
Flavour creeped.
Fired copper,
Metal manned.
Infant spirit,
Wood to hand.
Rest for years,
Oak and time.
That we may drink,
And whisky shine.
From The Grain by David Cover
(Lagg Poetry Competition Winner)
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