to tender the vines
they weep merlot tears
so merlot to hold
they ferment our years
to tender the cask
they reap merlot tears
to bottle and hold
they ferment for years
too tender the cask
they reap merlot fears
no merlot to hold
they ferment our tears
The moon leans low upon the river’s breast,
A silver bowl spilling over the reeds.
I lift my cup and laugh at the sky,
Clouds scatter like startled swans in flight.
Companions rise with song and shout,
Their sleeves wide as sails on the wind.
The earth tilts, the stars grow dizzy,
Wine flows, and reason drifts away.
What care have I for kings or crowns?
A plum blossom floats into my hand.
Tonight is a gift too rich to measure—
We dance, we sing, we drink without end,
Our shadows the only guests who remain.
the piano played for hours
the chianti bottle has long been empty
~ we refuse to go home
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Tell me, when we meet with a smile,
Tell me of the fondness for love.
The taverns of the city have long vanished,
Tell me if you can bring wine to my lips.
Roses scattered on the paths you can gather,
Tell me if you can piece together the broken me.
Each moment has passed in trembling fear,
Tell me if you can become the final hope.
We usually move ahead without looking back,
Tell me if you can call me home again.
Even your presence feels like a punishment,
Tell me if I still live within you.
This mirror has already shattered,
Tell me if your eyes can still make sense of it.
---
I timed my departure to coincide with the
lunar eclipse, but the
eastern horizon wasn't apparent,
in the park, or at the top of the road
my local high points
I scanned the firmament along with
other rando hopefuls but there was
no show to see so
onwards and upwards we went
as wine of a deep red hue
wasn't going to
buy or drink itself
brushstrokes across canvas of mine
flow smoother and mellower with wine
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Strangers......fade in wine bottles
of one night stands of no Bethlehem
Drugs wear their affects so slowly
and raising troubles blow into him,
like a cactus in a desert of no watering.
Shines are the arcs missing golden eyes
and the blame's missing when I close
and I open to wishing these in' demons
silently but open before I catch you gently
as you almost fall down a hall,
and again, I catch you
before you reach the floor.
I can stare in awe of I told you
as the goddess so closes the door
Those blues are color of your blouse
and in between I can wish about
No swift to the hurt upon your lies.
Our thoughts, like the sea with its white pebbles,
painted by its foam.
The waves come little by little, to halt them.
There, I see Greece.
Beneath the clouds that hide the sun,
its furrows moving back and forth like visitors.
They were forgotten on a pale islet at the horizon, where the gaze can reach.
In a small glass of red wine and a slice of bread,
behind the cornfields.
There, I see Greece.
In my grandparents’ house I left my memories in the yard,
in the scent of Sunday lunch.
A sommelier was known to whine
at pairings made with pork.
The shoulder was in fact divine,
so tender, lightly forked.
Yet she was deign to recommend
a cab or chardonnay.
Esteem I’d had came to an end
though, just the other day;
I saw her swilling Boone’s Farm wine,
complete with plastic cork.
AI?
Not with what 'A' stands for
in front of 'Insemination' or 'Intelligence'!
Facebook?
Not one look!
X/Twitter?
Not this heavy-hitter!
Spotify?
Not if I can help it!
ITube? YouTube? WeAllTube?
Not as it's DubiousTube!
Microsoft?
Not hardly what it ought to be!
Fast food?
Not food, fast? Possibly!
Wine is alcohol, alcohol a preservative,
in the U.S., to preserve wine,
they add sulfites and preserve a preservative!
Makes all the sense in the world to some,
but not me as, I live in a world of my own,
where artificial goes unknown,
population one, where I answer to none,
it's a concept of mine which I alone condone.
another glass poured—
questions ripple in the glass
each sip slow savored
swirled to reveal the secrets
tart on the tip of the tongue
your hand grasps at mine
arms entwine beneath the cloth—
a feast set for two
titillation passion served
pleasure decanted on course
hollow goblets clink,
laughter's dessert shops on lips
that join for quick kiss—
yet the night seeps through fingers
like the wine we cannot keep
The air is dry, and each breath is a struggle.
My feet feel heavy and shackled,
Like a bird in a cage, I feel trapped,
Unsure of what’s happening, I'm frightened.
My heart beats like a drum.
fast and hard,
In this storm, I am searching for a
ray of light.
While inside of me, a monster is consuming my soul.
A voice in my head screams, This is
Fear. It’s taking control.
In this endless climb, the ticking
clock taunts,
Courage leaves and a cold shiver
crawls down my spine,
A knot in my stomach tightens,
I closed my eyes and in a whisper, I murmured, “Whine or wine?”
By Zyrool
To you I write
This tender verse
My dearest
Lover at first glance.
I was no believer
In love struck on sight
Calling it mere heat
Not heart. But you changed that.
Words may fade
Ink may dry
Even the sky may lose its blue
But with you, I feel whole.
So I write
With ink steeped in longing
Softly asking
For your hand, if you're willing.
"Special times, that lovers know, a feeling starts and then it grows, Falling in love again, in a wonderfull world of our own." Lyric quote by Ted Mulry.
Wine touched lips.
Gentle sips.
Felt her hips.
Pressed to mine.
Felt so fine.
Sensed a sign.
I entreat,
Our breaths meet.
Love so sweet.
Writers write
everyone else
— just talks
(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)
Specific Types of Wine Poems
Definition | What is Wine in Poetry?
Poems Related to Wine
alcohol, aperitif, beer, booze, cabernet sauvignon, chardonnay, cocktail, color, grape, intoxicant, lavender, lilac, liqueur, liquor, magenta, mauve, merlot, mixed drink, periwinkle, pinot noir, plum, pomegranate, riesling, syrah, varietal, vine, vineyard, violet,