Some men build a wine cellar after only finding one grape.
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Some men will build a wine cellar when they have found just one grape.
Grape, Grape Joy
I am a small and lonely grape,
Clutching to the vine,
Waiting for the day when Ill become my saviors wine!
Oh, wouldnt french cuisine just yearn it,
Ive eternity to ferment,
But knowing me Id end up ripple
In a cellar of cheblis.
Are you a small and lonely grape
Clutching to the vine,
Waiting for the day when youll become your saviors wine?
Dont give up hope ye heavy laden,
You dont want to be a raisin;
Theres a grape grape joy in jesus,
In the vineyard of the lord.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Grape To Wine
If you were to say I don’t exist
This grape would not argue
Longing to be wine
Makes me disreputable
Lowers self respect
A grape begins to become wine when it says
“Pressure is necessary to burst open”
Sweet wine flows from surrender
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wine at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy.
Once in this time wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.
This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the sensual root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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The Life of a Grape
On the vine, the green fruit ripens,
Becoming fresh and well-rounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
In the sun, its sweet skin softens
On the branch where it's been bounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
The others grow fairly often.
Eventu'lly, it's surrounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
Then one day, away from the flocks,
It's plucked, dried, put into a box,
And such is the life of grape.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Letters are like wine; if they are sound they ripen with keeping. A man should lay down letters as he does a cellar of wine.
quote by Samuel Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Coupling
beware the water
beware the wine
the ingredient life of two...
is but a stitch in time
don’t water the fermented wine
don’t pollute the infusion vine
essence of fine cultivated grapes
sacred secret time held hallowed
taste sensual coupling embracing
essence selected chosen wine
plays sanctified soul embracing
songs in recipient mind
it was the finest harvest
it was a legendary year
so due seasons come regardless
so a summer none could impair
put the bottle in the rack now
please lock the wine cellar door
let ingredients mallow mature blend together
attain taste of age fine wine delectably is better
stone wine cellar is cold and timeless
stone purpose staunch does not falter alter
cooper still makes art form oaken casks
barrels bent shaped oaken ribs time censure
a choice wine must serve requisite time
an impassioned soul be flesh entwined
embodiment at discretion of inspired creator
sensitivity in tune with judgment of majestic maker
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Purple Grapes
Fresh purple grapes,
Dried raisin cakes
I love the seedless kind.
Grape fruit essence
The fruity, tasty kind.
Give it as presents,
I'll tell you I don't mind.
Grape fruit essence
As good as Merlot wine.
Clusters Of Grapes
as God nature creates complete
a bunch of grapes growing on vine
each grape an interlocked fold skin
of original envisioned composition
so too human architect craftsman
creates cultivates ideas to time define
each grape is picked complete from vine
each grape is perfect as singular complete
an orb idea formed vine ripe fertile complete
each grape is taste savoured relished eaten
peel me a grape of an idea complete eaten
slave starves creates each gilded grape given
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Water into wine
Once upon a time,
Jesus, who called himself the true vine,
turned water into wine
in an act of love.
All over the world, right now,
a million grape vines
are performing the same miracle
slowly; silently; aided by the sun;
their roots, like farmers, coal or diamond miners,
searching in the earth
for the most precious;
it doesn’t hit the headlines
but who dares say
a patient, silent, unsung love
is any less a miracle?
Who dares say that grape vines
do not seek and love
their beautiful perfection?
miracles, an act of love;
love, that miracle unearned –
what may we do to earn, to drink,
that wine of Love, but love?
*
[with a bow to Hafiz]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Nothing us but only in between us
In finding you
I find me, in looking for you
You look for me, so in finding you finding me,
We finally find out, there is nothing us but only
You and me finding you and me, there is really
No us, just some things between us, always finding
You and me finding you always finding two
Not one, nothing one, but always two, a separate
You finding me and me finding you in this search in futility
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Days of Wine and Roses
A Tangerine sun glazed The Travis Vineyard
While the Deep Purple haze, just glowed
The aroma's from all of the picked grapes
Filled Napa's Colored-flavored show!
The Valley 'tis filled with a bounty
Of future vino's of varying kinds
Aged and then tingled to the palate
'Tis Ambrosia, most divine, from the vine!
The succulent grape and its splendour
Shines the California's-near-by coast
The valley, itself, 'Tis a purple Wonder
Growing the most primo for its hosts
Perhaps a wine tasting party?
Hmmmm, wonder, if The Gallo's might attend?
It will truly be a celebration
As the days of Wine, are just 'round the bend!
Oh, did i leave off, The Roses?
My mistake, Mon Amore.
The title would not be complete
As it was, in the days of yore!
Back when it was a Movie
Back when it was a romantic song
Back in the time of old actors (Jack Lemmon)
Back when the wine could do no wrong!
'The Days Of Wine And Roses'
It taps at my long ago memory
Taking me back to a time
When the grape was truly very new to me!
poem by Theodora Onken
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When the wine runs to waste in the cellar, he mends the cask.
Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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Big Words
I've whined of coming death, but now, no more!
It's weak and most ungracious. For, say I,
Though still a boy if years are counted, why!
I've lived those years from roof to cellar-floor,
And feel, like grey-beards touching their fourscore,
Ready, so soon as the need comes, to die:
And I'm satisfied.
For winning confidence in those quiet days
Of peace, poised sickly on the precipice side
Of Lliwedd crag by Snowdon, and in war
Finding it familiar with me than before;
Winning a faith in the wisdom of God's ways
That once I lost, finding it justified
Even in this chaos; winning love that stays
And warms the heart like wine at Easter-tide;
Having earlier tried
False loves in plenty; oh! my cup of praise
Brims over, and I know I'll feel small sorrow,
Confess no sins and make no weak delays
If death ends all and I must die to-morrow.'
But on the firestep, waiting to attack,
He cursed, prayed, sweated, wished the proud words back.
poem by Robert Graves
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Tzilla
Cellar blooming hours
Bestial bloom darkness creeps
A sub cellar flower sleeps
A sleep of earthly flowers
Celestial twinkling toys
‘Tis Tzilla, horrified recoils
Floor doors open quickly slips
All tongues broken on her lips
Festina festina Cellestina
Delirious darkness bound
Sub cellar Luna found
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Winebibber's old stories of Wartime
Old Wine Cellar's insane daughter loves the Alcoholic
But her father strongly dislikes the affair.
The tippler who comes often to the Wine store
And voluntarily sweeps the floor.
Once in a blue Moon among the hysterics
He too drowns in the old Oak Vat with the intending Son-in-law
And listens to his old Wartime stories
While she serves appetizers on the triangular table.
* To my contemporary friend Bastian.Gajaweera
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Finding it-LOVE
Finding it is so hard and is rare
Finding it sometimes takes years
Finding it is something that should be handled with care
Finding it can bring you laughter instead of tears
Finding it can make you happy and free
Finding it can open the LOVE in your heart
Finding it will open your eyes to see
That one you do find it, you will see it has done its part
By Frank Pulver
poem by Frank Pulver
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What grape to keep its place in the sun, taught our ancestors to make wine?
quote by Cyril Connolly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why I Love Oregon Pinot Noir
In misty valleys of “Great Northwest”
A delicate, fragile grape doth grow
Sought by wineries wanting the best
And wine maker’s “In the know”
From bottle I decant, so all may see
Willamette Valley’s finest ruby wine
So they may indulge with you and me
This complex liquid, bold and fine
How softly Pinot rolls upon thy tongue
Aroused taste buds fill at once with zest
A noble wine without peer amongst
All others…for it's by far the very best
This be why I love Oregon Pinot Noir
So now let us enjoy another pour
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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