A vaccuumous suck on the stick

The flame lights with a crackle

The aromous smoke enters the mouth
Swirling, then settling onto the buds
Its taste pre-known past, sensed
The impulse travels to the brain, in awe
The wonders of a long thick roll
The brown cigar exploited by the lungs

What pleasure, a bunch of dry leaves

The dark parchment, round molded
Fitting into the claws with perfection
Flavored with the best potions
A sip on the golden single malt
A mark of the royal modesty