Beneath the moon’s soft, silver glow,
In the quiet hours where whispers flow,
A glass is raised, a silent toast,
To moments cherished, to memories most.

The amber liquid, swirling slow,
Holds secrets of lands we long to know,
Each sip a journey, a fleeting flight,
Through stars that twinkle in the night.

In laughter shared and stories spun,
The heart finds warmth, the soul is won,
With every clink, a bond renewed,
In the gentle dance of solitude.

As dawn approaches with its golden hue,
We bid farewell to the night’s sweet brew,
Yet in our hearts, the echoes ring,
Of nights spent in the gentle spring.