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!