Ode To Wine

Written by: Mike Butler

   
                  
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                  Tiny  eggs  rest-
                  ing  on the  vine
                   produced  by
                   Mother  Earth,
                   when touched
                   by  man  cre-
                   ates body and
                   life.   As   you 
                   mature in  the 
                 belly of aged ripe
              oak, like a baby in the
           womb. You develop sturdy
       legs that slowly slither down the
      side of my glass after each sultry
    sip. Born in different regions all over
    the world and of different races. Red
   or  white, Syrahs, Shirazs, Cabernets,
   Chardonnays, Sometimes a blend; all
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 bottled  up,  full  of potential to be the
 next  best  thing  in  a  market   or  in
 a   magazine.  I pick you up and play-
 fully  swirl you around. I  breathe you 
 in  and  smell  the sweet earthy notes 
 you   play   in   my   nose.  You’re   a 
 Maestro!   Entrancing  my senses with 
 hints   of   berries,   spices  and  deep 
 dark  red  chocolate. Some   grow  up 
 to    be    very   sassy   or  somewhat 
 sophisticated.   Of  course,  some  are 
 more    delicate   and  delightful  than 
 others,  sometimes  one   bad   grape 
 can  spoil  the  whole  barrel.  Always 
 willing  and  able  to  make  the  most 
 arrogant    of    dinner   parties  more 
 interesting   and  inviting.  Our  nights 
  full of sin, soon to be confessed and
   forgiven tomorrow. You truly are 
              the blood of Christ!