When our spirits weaken with despair
The Angels’ Share drifts in the air.
Each thoughtful deed or kindly word
Enlightens time upon the earth.
And some would bow their heads and pray
While others search for words to say
That would bring meaning to their lives
A myriad sorrows, joys, and strife…
Yet, here, is found some peace of mind
A line, or two, that deftly rhymes.
Those idle musings seem well-spent
When the heart, a moment, finds content.
Though it passes soon –it’s true
A little hope in life might do.
During the distillation of whisky, the breath evaporating into the air is called
The Angels’ Share…
