Strega

The besom the dry sticks of Autumn
Fly in the face of us all
The bold complex flavour
That many now savour
The wild herbs that answer the call
In the forest of moonbeams
The colourful light streams
The mints and the cinnamon
The juniper too
The fennel the saffron
The myriad spirits
The spells of the masters
And the morning dew

It’s there on the altar
It’s blue flame is burning
More than a digestif
My whole world is turning
Benevento it’s magic
The Alberti family
A perfect perception
It’s how it has to be

Such attention to detail
Mindful and caring
Coniferous notes
The great forest yearning
Painstaking selection
Sure footed all seeing
Wakeful and sharp eyed
There goes that great being

The witch and her magic
Embolden yet silent
Her impulse to reason
Her instinct to be
Veritable in her space in the forest
The circle of light
Where she can be free

The aura of Strega
Whose saffron the crocus
Gives up its mellowness
Colours the brew
The candour the glory
The Fragrance of many
A spell of involvement
That’s now far from new

Since 1860 it’s great affirmation
The true formulation
To solemn acclaim
The sage in his garret
This melange of merit
This magical mixture
Of elegant fame

This mellifluous spirit
Creating such drama
The stomach is eased by it
And feels much calmer
It plays to our willingness
A resolution
And delivers its message
Like the best solution

The thrill and sensation
All of the elation
It’s unctuous its gushing
My whole spirit rushing
It’s feels like I am flying
Excited and trying
No one’s denying
The spirit is there
It’s softness its sweetness
It’s joyful it’s joyous
Come have a glass dear
Come let us share

And once we have tasted
Our lips soaked and sweetened
Our hearts beating faster
A story to tell
Strega its brilliance
Each light giving moment
The desire for the fire
For the heat we know well.

Thank you to the Alberti family
For their care and dedication
All these years

And to my friend she knows who she is
Who introduced me to this liquor of the goddess
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