A Reconciled Vintage

The grapes mature until a turgid grace

fulfills the time the hogsheads hail the vines

With tender care the wine arrives apace

The vintner is the servant to his wines

I tasted many wines in this old place

And time is not my friend my days are less

The wine, gone from the cask without a trace

Except the scent of spirits from the press

So too the memories linger like bouquet

Of fine wine though the palate makes it true

Large tuns hold must but shortly fade away

Recall remains, device must soon renew

My vessel is assuredly giving way

A heart of wine endures I shan’t inveigh