Nostalgic Bubblery

One sip sends me reeling into another land
One I had the sands of which, slip through my hand
One beat or strum sends the curtains acrash
One that becomes the canvas for my nostalgic scratch

How long will I ride this hightide
One that lets me savour a stale flavour
Will I last when it peters out and leaves
One with a hollow reverberating screech