Best Claret Poems
Bereft and alone since love was lost,
she sits in deep shadows
humming the same song
sipping claret from a Lismore goblet
Day and night, in silence she dwells
Time no longer sifts through an hourglass.
Heartache has cast a wicked spell
cursing her into a void of loneliness
She's drawn the drapes,
praying an eclipse will fill the abyss
into which she's fallen
Hoping it will swallow moonlight's glow
keeping it hidden from sight
Entombed as though in a sepulcher,
her insipid soul sits spiritless
on this night, cold and bleak
No spark of life can be roused
in her vacant eyes
as if blood no longer flows in her heart
Naught but darkness does she seek
Only that and to be left alone
away from pitiable stares
She sits in deep shadows
humming the same song
sipping claret from a Lismore goblet
Fierce Arctic blasts were but things of my past
Once I found romance in the south of France.
How could she entrance with one simple glance?
My lonely love fast was over at last.
No longer alone with wine of the Rhone
We shared fresh claret at the Blue Parrot,
Love, I declared it, for her hair carrot
With its golden tone banded with opal stone.
We traveled to Nice to visit my niece
At the Eden Roc and enjoyed sweet talk;
The sand shore we’d walk and watch sailors caulk.
Our joy had to cease when came the police.
I'd made my exit, a jailbird Brexit,
From a Finnish cell much too cold to tell.
It was love’s death knell as law tracked me well.
To be explicit, Finns caught this nitwit.
It is Arctic cold where I will grow old
My crimes to atone ‘til I’m skin and bone.
My heart lives alone with dreams of the Rhone
Where claret is sold; and your hand I hold.
1/30/2019
Burnley had a conjugal date after getting a vision
Was warned you may want to listen
To the canary finishing his mission
Relocating to a lower level
Feeling a wee bit better not needing a shovel
Getting experience from the higher league
Canary play should increase and be at a winning degree
Venturing to the dungeon
After buying snacks for the munching
Seeing it in sight
Wanting diplomacy not a fight
Pouring some Claret wine
Two sat down for a dine
While each other picked each other’s mind
Everything proceeded in calm fashion
No scoring just a lot of passing
Until plenty of ticks were put on the clock
When wood was a chip off the old block
Spirits were high
A break they did try
Canary pondered “‘A’ rated exposure could be a lie”
Come back more refreshed
Burnley waited watched wanting a drunken confess
Near the conclusion
Canary made a goal that added to the losing
It was the knockout punch
Closing the weekend late late lunch
Parting their ways
Canary had nothing to say
Green and yellow
Quietly mellow
Letting go
Moving on to another show
Pay Citizens one last visit
Their high profile property sold, no longer listed
Everything seemed secure
Inside the crystal palace safe and pure
Welcoming the claret wine
For a taste testing and dine
This evening’s match
Featuring best grapes from Burnley’s vineyard patch
Such a glorious exhibition
Sit back, watch and listen
Deciding seating places at the table
Both having positions that are stable
Winner will enjoy a fruity high
Loser will find themselves in the bottom half reading a PS ‘nice try’
But if the result is a draw
Movement up the ladder will be small
Stated in the scoring rule law
When the sipping began okayed by the starter
A communication was written like a charter
“This wine is very tarter!!”
“It is green wine!”
One server defined
Identification decided to decline
Giving it a few swirls
To those wearing pearls
“I must get my red card”
An affluent said headed to the bar
But none was giving
“You must be kidding!”
Richness carried on
And a few minutes later found the one with the magical Dublin wand
“If it was up to me
We could have a toast at the first tee
Then drive a fair way
Enjoying a dessert, a parfait
With a nice shot
Hitting the right spot”
Looking at the Irish steward
A royal tried not to be forward
“Is that the reason for the interesting taste?”
A princess wondered about the luring liqueur base
“That was my goal
Would you like your glass chilled or cold?”
Wanting to leave
These well to dues led out the decree
“That is not all right
Picking a fight”
Putting the plastic chalice down
Showing angry frowns
“You should sample mine
Squirt it with lime
Give time
Your smile will shine”
Hearing that stated
Elite spirits really felt degraded
Going home alone
Needing Napa Valley on the phone
Shrugging his shoulders the young entrepreneur did
Smelled the cork that was the bottles lid
Knowing the whip creamy topping shouldn’t be hid
Mumbling to himself “This needs an honest bid”
Going on to the stage he muddled
Many still around to hear a rebuttal
“A colorful treat for the taking
An eloquent find in the making
For those tired of the dreaded soda bread baking”
Hands went up with many shouts
Wanting the green wine that no one knows anything about
pain i remember
in that dusk claret color
that sad december