The Sage and the Pub

In the pub, there sat a Sage,
With wisdom that surpassed his age.
He sipped his beer, a pint so cold,
As tales of old he deftly told.



His beard was long, his eyes were kind,
And in his voice, a wisdom shined.
He spoke of life, of love, of pain,
And how to find peace in one’s brain.



His words were gold, his tales so true,
And soon the crowd was listening too.
They leaned in close to hear him speak,
As The Sage took another sip, so meek.



He spoke of joy and life’s sweet nectar,
And how to find it without a spectre.
The crowd was captivated by his grace,
As he took another sip of his beer with pace.



For The Sage, the pint was just a drink,
To help him ponder, to help him think.
And as he sipped, his wisdom grew,
As did the crowd, who now all knew.



So in the pub, with his pint in hand,
The wise old Sage continued to command.
For with his words and his beer so stout,
He brought the crowd both peace and clout.