Water of Life

Headed with the lads to the Highlands
Tartan printed kilts we wore
Heard the tunes of the bagpipes
While waiting for Nessie on the loch’s shore

Climbed up to the castles
To peruse oak casks, flasks at our hips
In case we felt thirsty
And wanted to bask while having a nip

Lost our way among the sheep
When we came upon a pretty lass
Say, do you know of any nearby distilleries
Where we can replenish our glass?

She said, depends what you like
Whether single grain, blended or single malt
Speyside, smoked and peaty
Each is a treasure deserving a vault

Each one, aged and matured for many, many years
She patiently explained the process, thinking we were connoisseurs
We were there to chug the litres, didn’t care much for the vintage
Our palates not as evolved as our livers that we could gauge

Begin with Abelour, Edradour, Ardbeg, Balvenie, Grant’s
Move on to Famous Grouse, Tobermory, Haig, Deveron, Cardhu
Cragenmore, Dalmore, Kavalan, Finlaggan, Auchentoshan
And then Arran, Macallan, Oban, Old Pulteney, can do?

Next I’d suggest Craigellachie, Stronachie, Bruichladdich
No, say that again please, which?
And after that, Benriach, Glenglassaugh, Bunnahabhain
If you know what I’m sayin’

Further along, Jura, Singleton, Smokehead, Benromach,
Benriach, Talisker, Dewars, Haig, Kilchoman, Isle of Skye
Glen Dronach, Ballantines, Black & White, J & B, Cutty Sark
Chivas, Laphroaig, Tullibardine and Putachieside by the by

Ballechin, Ancnoc, Glenfiddich, Glenlivet, Glenmorangie
Caol Ila, Dimple, White Horse, Ballechin, Whyte & Mackay
Gordon & Macphail, Teacher’s, Johnnie Walker, Lagavulin
Glen Allachie & Glenkinchie and then, call it a day

Heads spinning at the reply
We rested them against a nearby boulder
Kind, young lady that she was
She offered us a wee dram of Monkey Shoulder

On those mossy crags, no crystal decanter
No snifters, not even a cube of ice
Just unadulterated, undiluted taste
And boy, was it so damn nice

One last word of cheery parting
Before she left, from the most helpful miss
Aye, just make sure you raise a toast
To our national dish of haggis

As heavenly was the taste
Of Scotland’s finest export, I had a gripe
No way in hell was I going to taste
Anything made of suet, oatmeal and tripe

 

http://www.whisky-panorama.com/

 

Make sure you read the previous one on Kebabs –https://randomrantsruminationsramblings.wordpress.com/2019/06/03/skewered/