Our Tune.
The loud tick of my pine-clock slowed
as I sipped old wine,
remembering the fun of raiding hedgerows
and carrying home
bags which dripped spots of summer
from scarlet-ripe fruits
*
*
spurting long before being crushed into
juice as I gently,
like a good midwife, tried birthing with
coddle a new honey brew
and bottled in well-stirred batches
brown blackberry looseness
*
*
which labelled and dated I surveyed
very proudly before
storing my babies in cellared cool where
half forgotten they
stood burping loudly approaching
change to maturity.
*
*
Now with desperation on near horizon
I had to try one
when fermented chatter now fully grown
whispered its magic,
reviving past honeymoon kisses
of hazy-dayed allure
*
*
as berried hands linked memory's
laughter while dipping
together we mixed slurry sediment in
sip-stolen unhurry
before time took away all but grief
of war-widowed gloom,
*
*
but now drinking a grateful glass
of clear nectar I toasted,
in ready nostalgia devotion's potent
result, listening intently
to a mystical alchemic liquidy-red
still singing our tune.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: November 12th, 2017 03:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 84
- User favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet.
Offline)
Comments10
Fay, you are speaking my language here! Love that picture too! Your words are a beautiful tribute to the nectar of the Gods!
Reminds me of my father. Always making wine. Nice write Fay - Syd
your stunning array of wonderful wording blew me out the water. I love this and have read a couple time now. beautifully written, Fay Slimm.
Country wines - they have something not captured in their more lauded grape cousins. Superb writing Fay.
Also great photo and she is holding the glass correctly - so few know how or why the stem is so important.
Oh I dunno any etiquette M. I just goes mad when I sees any sherry. Grabs the glass with both hands. lol
Far better than trying to suck it out of a cake Orchi . Would you believe it there are even wine glasses on sale which are shaped like upside down pyramids - so completely wrong- has the world gone mad? Must be tulip shaped and never but never filled beyond the widest circumference. Don't they teach our children anything at school these days? Sherry wasted in cakes and trifles I despair!!!
A fine write is much like a fine wine Fay. We savor the read as it stimulates our senses and our taste buds of emotions. Superbly written and tasted.
Good write Fay. My tune may improve after a sherry nectar or three! lol.
WINE which maketh glad the heart of Man and stirs a Woman's memory ! Thanks for caring FAY ~ Lovely symbiosis of PIC & POEM ........... AGAIN ! Yours for ever BRIAN.
This is a beautiful poem, Fay! So descriptive and your writing just takes me to another place!
Oh the joys of home wine making, the pleasures, and disappointments too which somehow reinforce those joys. Memory's of elderflower champagne's, crisp light 'perfection'.
"in sip-stolen unhurry" raised a smile in me. A lovely joyous write at this melancholy memory day.
Beautiful write, it is so wonderful when the fruits collected from the joys of walking in the countryside can be converted into a wonderful nectar. I used to make my own wine.
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