You and the Bottle

You can’t tell what’s in a bottle

     Till the cork is taken out,

And you’ve tipped it at an angle

     Say to forty-five, about;

Till you’ve let it touch your palate,

     Or you’ve analyzed it right;

You can’t tell what’s in a bottle

     When it’s corked up tight.

You can’t tell what’s in a fellow

     When he tries to hide his hand;

When he keeps a golden silence

     He is hard to understand.

And the world won’t know you’re value

     ‘Less you up and stir the ground;

Folks will never know what’s in you

     If you just sit around.

Amy 4, ‘09