Another Glass of Chardonnay?

And as the leaves all mingle on the ground
My love of life as sure as day is clear
The sun with royal diadem is crowned,
Though bows in acquiescence to my dear–
Now garbed in lovely pinkish sunset hues
Her footsteps crackle rhythms with red leaves
Whose mother tossed them when they lost their use
A tapestry of death the harsh wind weaves.
I notice not the wind’s cruel treachery
Nor gasp at tree’s example of neglect
When you are close I lose periphery
And other thoughts behind a dam collect–
You join me in this love feast as we dine
On mutual affection and word wine.


8 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Danny Nettleton
    Aug 08, 2011 @ 12:12:12

    Excellent sonnet. Romantic in the classical sense of the word. “tapestry of death the harsh wind weaves” is a wonderful line that just rolls off the tongue.


  2. Mike Patrick
    Aug 09, 2011 @ 09:57:47

    Very good. You have woven some lovely metaphors in with the realities of nature. The ending, “word wine,” tying everything to the title, was pure poetic inspiration. Every poem is a poet’s attempt to make word wine.


  3. Kellie Elmore
    Aug 09, 2011 @ 19:45:00

    I adore this. You rhyme flawlessly! Wish I could do that!


  4. Edward Fraser
    Sep 30, 2011 @ 11:31:54

    What a lovely read! Splendid work!


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