tangy breeze fades off
from sultry eve's rosette view…
leaving summer mouths
like a zing of Merlot wine…
to taste last kisses on flight
The pattern maker measures his guest
neck, shoulders chest, and breast,
arms, back, wrist, waist, hips,
pivots for darts on a block bodice
drafts designer dupe requested
a choice rose-beige mini is invested
on paper made of parchment
a muslin fabric fit first garment
The dressmaker sews the formal
zig zags seam ends, snips as normal
finishing floral, attaching appliques,
the courtier knock off is complete
I get out the chips and merlot
It’s time for the fashion show
Oh, the choreography of a crescent,
Where orchids dream amongst the subtle dust,
Weaving visions of vermilion wishes,
Signing scribbles surrounding the stars,
What a mouth-watering ornament,
A flickering flame frosted for eternity
Like the crust around a metaphorical mess
Listen to the velvet croissant curled up in the constellations of a poet’s sky,
Cradling along the corners of our eyes,
The buttery beam of hope is in the clouds,
Gazing with a golden gloss right through a bruised heart,
Might the tales of the torn trust be of any use?
To the pearly silhouette that levitates,
Like a luscious lantern, fully fragrant and flawless,
Guide me, Arc of abundance,
Feed me, in the tenderness of your aroma,
Never let these fingers wonder when to let go,
Make the time go slow,
While the night blooms flow,
Mighty frozen snow,
Merging in a magical merlot mist,
You are the verses in the ash harboring the silence in my tears.
Sparking, chilled wine
is the common drink
we can afford to soothe stress,
it's that wind without a hiss;
the more we drink,
theless we think!
Lilian asked for a divorce,
her insanity got worse,
her husband married a ****,
a busty hooker strolling
on high heels in Sunset Park!
Lilian tossed his pictures
out of the window, screaming;
she didn't choose to be a widow!
Lilian drank a lot and felt low,
her favorite wine was Merlot,
she's only forty but looks eighty;
alcohol is a slow death, surely!
Sparkling, chilled wine
is good company
to escape reality,
it's time dedicated to relaxation,
a thrill for real improvisation:
a surprise after nine!
I grabbed a bottle
of sparkling, chilled wine
to idle time away
and stay out of trouble;
every cloud was thick and gray,
even silence was unbearable!
Sparkling, chilled wine
is a remedy, not a cure,
it gives one strength to endure;
it's a ray of delusive sunshine!
Ah! Sparkling, chilled wine
is a journey to Wonderland,
to that place close to divine,
where I shed tears on the sand!
1st place
B ring on this saucy Mexican flavor
E ach mouthful an epicurean delight;
E nticing the palate with slivers of meat
F ingers tap on salsa... hot as summer flame--
Y ielding to tacos' sun- toasted warmth.
Trails of cream cheese, onions drip on top
A nother round zings mouths with delight
C rusty. Creamy. Calorific crazy, and yet--
O ver goblets of Merlot, we deliriously toast
S unday's garden spree whirling into a fiesta !
Its the kind of cold
Where we draw hearts on windows
And see the evidence of our breathing
We know we're alive because
We feel everything
The air pinches our skin
"Wake up and don't go"
But as the candles slowly dimmed their light
and we drank the last bit of the Merlot
Our cheeks went flush
Saw the blood rush in
Like a tidal wave
Too late to save
So I hide in plain sight
And I cover my face
You pull my arms down;
Tell me I belong in this place
Its the kind of air that pumps
straight into your lungs
Breathing life into words
that roll off smooth tongues
It's the kind of night
the light scatters through
Convince me to stay
I'll turn everything blue
to tender the vines
they weep merlot tears
so merlot to hold
they ferment our years
to tender the cask
they reap merlot tears
to bottle and hold
they ferment for years
too tender the cask
they reap merlot fears
no merlot to hold
they ferment our tears
through my long-stemmed glass
red & white stripes, blue with stars
merlot reflection
muted-purple silhouette
prolonged sips, flag pole on porch
salt and pepper six large beeff bones bake at 350 for 35 to 40 mins.
remove a cool
remove marrow from the bone and set aside
2 cups of chopped minced fine cremine mushrooms
1 cup of olives chopped fine
1/2 cup of minced onion
2 T of minced garlic
4 T of roasted bell pepper
1/2 stick of butter
salt and pepper
1 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
4 T conagac
2/3 cups of heavy cream
2 T of dried thyme
Cook the mushroom duxelles. Sauté very finely chopped mushrooms, shallots, and thyme together into a flavorful paste.
mix in marrow
mix well and set aside
We want Two cups of cooked fork tender pot roast
shred pot roast into small fine pieces
and add to the mushroom mixture
cut the Pate A Chouxs in half removing any extra filling
or remove the tops
layer prosciutto in the puffs and
add beef mixture
serve with Crispy Garlic Parmesan Fries
and Salad with a light vinaigrette and
Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot
Enjoy!
I set the table; I did not.
The pourer did. The poor did not.
The seats are cold; merlot is warm.
The pourer asks; there are replies,
sips, guzzles, sighs, manners.
I am satisfied as each one’s drunk.
The pourer leaps from spot to spot,
wincing, squinting, craving approval.
I smile; I nod; with each intonation, accent,
sound of a lady and a gentleman.
The table is set quite elaborate; each course,
choice: salad, pork, dessert.
The hour becomes late;
drunkenness from each glass poured.
I am satisfied by the pourer; rich
with the scent of merlot and more.
He’s the only one left of my friends.
The seats are cold; he is warm.
in the late night hours
i like to take things slow
i sip a glass of chardonnay
merlot or pinot grigio
through my bay window
i'm watching the fall of snow
i sit back and relax
setting the lights down low
with pen in hand
i just let the words flow
AP: 2nd place 2025
Names are written on the walls of my eyes:
Terrible thoughts of itching fire!
The wall opens to the chambers
to the bones of forgotten family
Savages, what they did to you;
Never to haunt them as it does me!
Their smiles and laughs, written on the walls of my eyes…
Their blood shall make for the finest cup of merlot
These savages, upon my mount.
I pray for prey; to rack them up like the horns of a bull.
Savage, am I? Or am I not?
Justice calls from the depths of my bloodline
From the names written on the walls of my eyes;
They say “Liberate our fury with the hand
that robs them of God’s mercy!”
Persian
Phoenician
Armenian
Lebanese
worldly
lovely
my flattery needs fuel
one more glass of wine
grapes and olives building humanity
more beauty, my eyes crave it so
plus infinite wisdom
glasses full of merlot kisses
if a heart beats
it needs endless love
this woman taught me softness
of whom do I speak?
oh la la only the Egyptians knew
the love for your cat is eternal
The vastness of it all mi
ancestors the shores of
pastel climbing beneath
my feet essence of Veneto
the wildness of black cherries
bluntness of plums strings
of grapes opened just so
found behind a glass of
Merlot singing lemoncello
crowding tastes buds through
rows of lemon trees crawling
olive branches sweeping the
stone ways a covenant of mi
Nonna dancing throughout
Rome mi ancestors Mason
Veneto builders an yet
cemeteries where religious
statues buildings tombstones
are crafted by the blood
of my ancestors hands
all over Italy the vastness
of it all remembering
mi Nonna remembering Rome
Mysterious blue
as midnight moonlight spills on
meandering dreams.
Once butterflies' ball is done
merlot bliss lies past the sun!
Red Mars reveries
join nights of mulberry rose
camouflaging green.
So many are not sleeping
when the yellow warblers sing.
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