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Thank you Plutarch, it is largely you who gives me occasion to drink. Take right now for instance... I am sober and as dry as a...uh...judge, and I find your short poem above tightly written with gentle wit and textbook rhyme. But with you I can't be sure that within those seemingly innocuous lines are not deep messages of import, messages for the human spirit about revealed meanings of man and his soul. I think deeper when I drink; so thank you for your kind and generous obscurity. 
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I think deeper when I drink
I wonder, themilum. Are you thinking deeper, or just sinking deeper?
There is a point beneath which your anchor will not catch. It's called the "byssus"*. After that, only the abyss is with us.
re "it is largely you who gives me occasion to drink". Perhaps so, themilum, but is it me who gives you occasion to drink so largely? Perhaps if you only awarded bottles for First Place and left the other places to fend for themselves.
In any case, your accolade does not put me out of spirits. [It won't put you out of spirits either, unless it puts you out of pocket first.]
It was W. C. Fields who said:
"My wife drove me to drink. It's the only thing I can ever thank her for."
* With acknowledgements to Dr. Bill for "the byssus" [in Wordwind's "cast away" thread].
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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>It was W. C. Fields who said:
"My wife drove me to drink. It's the only thing I can ever thank her for."
Actually it was my father, who often drove around with Fields when he was on a toot in the Twin Cities. He (my father) always swore that he was with Fields on more than one occasion when he opened bank accounts in strange names, which neither of them could remember the next day.
Another time, Pop and Mae West drove through a snowstorm to get her from Minneapolis to Chicago for a performance. Pop said the best performance was in the motel they had to spend two nights in during the trip. But he always WAS a braggart. One of his favorite lines was, "I'm not always as good as I once was, but I'm once as good as I always was."
TEd
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Actually it was my father, who often drove around with Fields
So, it was your father who drove Fields to drink. Too bad his wife got all the credit for it.
Did your father also have a taste for wine? W.C. Fields was always heard complaining: "Who stole the cork outta my lunch!"
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Carpal Tunnel
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Actually the cork he was talking about was on a whiskey bottle. Fields was apparently a pretty serious alcoholic and went for the quantity of alcohol per cc, not the quality.
TEd
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Let's raise a toast to great thinkers Fields and Gleason and other famed drinkers. Omar was one Who was never outdone And his Rubaiyat is the proof of his clinkers. What without asking, hither hurried whence?
And without asking, wither hurried hence?
Another and another cup to drown
The memory of this impertinence.BTW "clinkers" is a good word because you can have your way with it according to your druthers: From A-H online: Slang. Something of inferior quality; a conspicuous failure: a clinker of a show. Chiefly British. Something admirable or first-rate. http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=clinker
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Pooh-Bah
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I never can make a good rhyme.
I cannot make a meter in time.
And limericks? No way.
Both poetry and play?
I will drop them like a bowling ball on my toe. Ouch.
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Sparteye has little time for funning
And few of his rhymes are that cunning.
But if you need an attorney
On a long, legal journey
Sparteye's meter will never stop running.
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Dear Sparteye, I thought your poem well consructed with tasteful whimsy that led to the perfect off-timing and the delightful surprise in the refreshing sentiment of your concluding line. Thank you. And Putarch, lawyer jokes are no longer appealing.  If you want to tell a good rhyming lawyer joke you must put in a reference to a snake.
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lawyer jokes are no longer appealing
Hey, themilum:
It's OK to make fun of a lawyer's rhyme
As long as you pay him for his time.
Besides:
He can always appeal to the court
If he thinks your joke is a tort.
You got us all wrong, themilum. We aren't snakes. We're sharks. :) [Snakes have thin skins. Sharks don't.]
Which reminds me:
Did you hear the one about the guys who were lost at sea in a life-raft? They were nearly dead when they drifted within sight of a deserted island. Only one problem: the life-raft was surrounded by sharks.
There was a lawyer on board. He didn't hesitate for a moment. He dove in and the sharks escorted him safely to shore.
"What's that all about?, one of the guys on the life-raft sputtered in amazement. "Professional courtesy", the lawyer's buddy replied.
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