NOT PLONK

NOT PLONK A well-corked bottle lets nothing escape Subtle added tastes from an oaken cask I’ll sip and enjoy this fine cultured grape Is a well-rounded body too much to ask A label removed where words are hung What other joys lurk behind this mask Flavours still swirling around the tongue Notes of warm sunshine one can detect It’s as if somehow, a soft melody is sung They say that terroir has a major effect But frost will always have the last word That late autumn sunshine can’t correct A sommelier should know all, I suspect Which wines to dismiss, which to select