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The Iron Hog

Under a hog made out of iron
where libations flow so fast
and the music will coerce your feet to dance;

be aware of your surroundings
and forget about the past,
let the room fill up with party, and romance!

~

There's no way you're in the wrong place
it's "hog heaven", as they say
let's celebrate together young, and old;

we'll all raise high our glasses
and toast the aging of the day,
staying well after the final joke is told!

~

We'll share our camaraderie
and celebrate good cheer
we'll keep the party going into night,

every celebration differs
although one thing's always clear,
the Iron Hog's the place where the party's out of sight!

~

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
For my good friend John, the original "Iron Hog"! He can really throw a party!
Editing stage: 

Comments

Love it, i wish i could attend sounds like a magic place to be. Great poem,Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

...at least that's how we ultimately end up fancying ourselves after hoisting more than one's share! Nes 'pa?
thanx my friend;
doc.

Neopoet is "newtriffic" !
...from the heart, or a reasonable faxcimile;
david a. goodwin #{:>{)} @==

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