Ode To Wine
_____________
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
I
N
T
O
X
I
C
A
T
I
N
G
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!
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