Pop, let it breathe they say
So you sniff the cork
Admire the label
Select a glass
Sit back and relax
Red, but darker really
A bruise, a plum, a welt
Picked from loamy sands
By gnarled, knotted hands
Or so you would imagine
A grape to be so gathered
That staves the pain
Your vision sustained
Pour and swirl
Make it cry with you
Long legs should be admired
Despite your being tired
Slow now to the lips
There’s no need to hurry
The aroma fills your nose
And your need to taste it grows
Your exhaustion fades away
Your joy glistens before you
A bittersweet bouquet
This bottle of the day
The many that came before
Made a joy a chore
And those that follow after
Will make Merlot your master
