Well I’ve acquired an antique liquor cabinet;
But it’s not just bottled spirits that inhabit it.
The dealer told me it’s at least a hundred years old;
Handing over the keys as he quickly marked it “sold.”
Its gothic design recalls an old movie theater;
Days of Hollywood from the golden silent era.
Georgian style legs like from an ancient four-post bed;
Interior lined with leather of Moroccan red.
Sometimes it creaks at night and doors open by themselves;
Revealing shadowy bottles and glasses on shelves.
There’s a ghost who appears and joins my party of one;
My grinning host who says “cheers”
And asks me, “one and done?”
I’ll have my first dance with Brandy, then her sister Gin;
Perhaps a Scotch or some Absinth with a splash of sin.
True friends will never shut you off nor call the last call;
When the genie in the bottle is belle of the ball.
Well it seems I’ve acquired an unwanted habit;
Being bitten by the mad dog and rabid rabbit.
Now I inhabit a haunted house and habitat;
My happy home’s the cabinet–well imagine that!
Always fully stocked with bottles that never run dry;
The Bourbon ever flowing in eternal supply.
I’ve inherited a haunted liquor cabinet;
Now I’m just one of the spirits
That inhabit it.