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
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