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The Wine

A Shakespearean Sonnet of the Romance of Wine

The wine doth beckon me near to imbibe

And sate my all consuming thirst. N'ary

A beast remain to ken my diatribe.

I drowned them out with fey or fairy.

Red and white spirits of frivolity

Pour out, dancing among angelic hymn;

A joyous depart from calamity.

I enjoy a glass at each passing whim.

But wine must set, to ferment and decay,

A reminder, death has a gift to give.

Each sip may meet my lips as if to say,

"Oh no, there is no shame in just to live."

Wine, the harbinger of misfortune or love,

Who tells us all, "As below, so above."

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The Wine
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