My mother served me wine and water from the time I was 3 years old.
quote by Robert Mondavi

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I always knew the importance of it, since I was three or four years old my mother used to feed me wine and water. I grew up with wine as liquid food.
quote by Robert Mondavi

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Wives Of A Mandarin
Lawful wife.
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is nests of the swallows.
Since the birth of time, the legal spouse
Is respected by her mandarin-husband.
Concubine
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served – duck: fat and heavy;
Should a mandarin be deprived of children -
Concubine is needed for a mandarin.
Maid
There is still some wine left in the chalice,
And the plate is served - preserves and marmalade.
Why the two of you are in his house?
Every night a new woman he desires.
Mandarin
There is no more wine left in the chalice,
And the plate that’s served is hot red pepper.
Silence! O you: bunch of silly blabbers,
Dare you laughing at the poor old mandarin.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev

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I Am Told
For forty four years now
Each morning I woke up
I go straight to prepare
A cup of coffee for my wife
It's a ritual that I do
For forty four years
Not that she asks for it
But it's what I love to do
Love is what commands me
To lit a kettle to boil a water
For she likes it when its so hot
A coffee she drinks quite early
Suddenly, now that it's our anniversary
I do the thing I 've been doing ever since
We got married for forty four years back
Yet for the first time I am told just so today
That the coffee I served her now tasted bad
poem by Marvin Brato Sr

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A different test
What is fine and where to dine
It is to be served only with wine?
I want it to be served at its best
When I am there at complete rest
Different test at different time
Sometime may amount committing to crime
I have all dreams to come true
i have tested and gone through
It is what I am today
Gone was bad yesterday
I wait for bright day
Let people find it as best way
I shall stand alone amidst the crisis
Broad smile but no emphasis
Let them thin and enjoy in their own style
I shall watch them for a while
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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First Water
The water had its beginning before time began
Before even the first born our God would call earthly man.
The creator knew the value and significance of water
Just as its second human creation we call an earthly daughter.
Man certainly does not live by bread alone
But along side the children who sleep at home.
Man can survive without food for a long, long time
But not for long without water nor drinking wine.
The universal one covered earth with two thirds water
Still not as miraculous as the gift of a daughter.
More bounty in the water than in the soil
How expressive is the holy one when we toil.
A green tree grows on coral with a great deal of salt
A desire of the eternal God who has no fault.
The creator separated the birds from the land and sea
Also for man and woman and their child to be.
Water cleans, heals and provides
Mother nature gives, replenishes and renews with each new tide.
poem by chuck Hurley

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Water From Wine
Ive lost my headlights
Dark lets me see too much
And Im just groping
For anything to touch
Am I a seabird
I have the strangest cry
Am I just drifting
Am I too far inside
Everythings changing
Everythings changing my mind
Im going backwards
Backwards to water from wine
I can hear thunder
But I am made of stone
Im reaching out
Im reaching out but Im still alone
I look for my body
But it just disappears
Nodody knows me
Everything feels like years
Everythings changing
Everythings changing my mind
Im going backwards
Backwards to water from wine
I look for joy
Its in the cracks sometimes
I can hear music
But its been locked inside
Everythings changing
Everythings changing my mind
Im going backwards
Backwards to water from wine
Everythings changing
Everythings changing my mind
Im going backwards
Backwards to water from wine
Every night owns me, nothing is holy
Every night owns me, nothing is holy
song performed by by Heather Nova

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turning Water Into Wine
Poetry can be like turning water into wine
drinkers should sip in contemplated taste
layers of multiple meaning oak cask aged
can be shared with a fine meal in company.
Yet never forget shallow drafts intoxicate
fog brain when empty stomach consumed
in desert climes water best served in purity
prevents stupification by fluid articulate vine.
Wine seasoned too well is sweet melody not engaged.
True elixir manipulates feelings stirs emotions in throat
time melts into shadows skin tissues peeled mind teased.
Medicines can be raw mind game bitter taste believed.
Harsh stick in throat taste perceived judgement cured
body rebels at infusions infection fights incentive lured.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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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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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John (Chapter 2)
There was a wedding in Cana,
And Jesus’ mother had gone there;
Invited was Jesus also;
His disciples attended too.
When wine ran short, His mother told,
Jesus, “They have no wine to serve.”
But Jesus asked. back, ‘Why tell me? ’
“How does that concern me? ” He asked.
“My hour has not yet come.” He said.
His mother told the servers all,
“Do whatev’r He tells you to do.”
There were six water-jars of stone,
Meant for Jewish ceremonies.
Each could hold some thirty gallons.
When Jesus told, ‘Fill up the jars
With water up to brim, ’ they did.
Then Jesus told them, ‘Draw out some
And take it to the head-waiter.’
The Head-waiter tasted new wine.
He knew not wherefrom this wine came.
He called the bridegroom and told him,
“All serve the good wine initially.
When people have drunk one less good,
You’ve kept the good wine until now? ”
This was his first miracle done
In Cana town, in Galilee.
His disciples believed in Him.
Thus was revealed His glory first!
All went to Capernaum later.
They stayed there only for few days.
Then Jesus reached Jerusalem,
As Passover was nearing fast.
And in the temple area then,
He saw some selling animals;
Some money-changers were there too.
He made a whip out of some cords,
And drove them out of temple fast.
He spilled the money of changers,
And over-turned their tables too.
He told the dove-sellers to leave.
He warned them not to make the house
Of His Father, a market-place!
His disciples recalled scripture,
‘Zeal for your house will consume me! ’
The Jews then asked Jesus to show
The sign for doing thus, that day.
And Jesus answered them and said,
‘Destroy this temple; in three days,
I’ll raise it up! ’ He firmly said.
‘The Temple took forty-six years
For construction, ’ the Jews all said.
‘You’ll raise it in just three days time? ’
But He meant His body’s temple.
When Jesus was raised from the dead,
His disciples remembered this.
They came to believe the scripture
And what was foretold by Jesus.
While Jesus in Jerusalem
And Feast of the Passover came,
So many believed in His name,
When they had seen the signs He did.
But Jesus didn’t trust anyone.
He knew the people all around.
He did not need one to tell Him.
He understood human nature!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-21-2007
poem by John Celes

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The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found.
quote by Calvin Trillin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wine and Me
I asked the moon to drink with me tonight;
he just gave me a heavy sigh,
as though he heard that plea from me
a thousand times before.
Morning after morning, I don't see the sun;
that was after the day you were gone.
I filled my cup with wine,
the sounds of it seems music to my ears.
I wish to fade as you fade
with the passing years.
Every gulp of it brings the memory
when you were here by my side.
'You'll be back' - a sentimental lie.
My cup was empty and i filled it again.
Only now, the tears flowed like rain.
'You did want me' - another lie.
And i drink with my shadow
as the time passes by.
I was slowly consumed, like fire down a candle;
like drops of water flowing like a passing river.
The taste of wine on my lips
seems so sweet...I drank again.
'You miss me'- a sweeter lie.
I drank till the dawn is nigh.
I ask only to be drunk forever
and never wake...
to lie forgotten with the darkness;
to sleep forgotten in the depths of a lake.
'You did love me' - the sweetest lie.
I wish to fade as the years pass by.
But tonight, there's just this wine and me
forgotten with the wind.
With our endless torments,
with our bitter tears...
There's just this wine and me to let me forget you
and the sorrows of a thousand years.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar

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The street hawker
From the day his mother died
He had no time to mourn
Coz the very next morn
The same robe he had to adorn
Same food he served door to door
Forgetting mother is no more!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady

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I went to fetch water from the lake
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
Kneading my firm breasts, he lusted for the nectar of my lips, O mother!
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
'How did you hurt your lips' my mother-in-law suspiciously asks.
'It was my girl friend's nail as she was helping me with the pots'
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
I had gone in a great hurry but my love held me back,
It is excellent to attain Narsaiyya's Lord,
For he made me like himself, O mother!
I went to fetch water from the lake, but my love wont let me, O mother!
poem by Narsinh Mehta

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Wine and Water
Old Noah he had an ostrich farm and fowls on the largest scale,
He ate his egg with a ladle in a egg-cup big as a pail,
And the soup he took was Elephant Soup and fish he took was Whale,
But they all were small to the cellar he took when he set out to sail,
And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine,
"I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
The cataract of the cliff of heaven fell blinding off the brink
As if it would wash the stars away as suds go down a sink,
The seven heavens came roaring down for the throats of hell to drink,
And Noah he cocked his eye and said, "It looks like rain, I think,
The water has drowned the Matterhorn as deep as a Mendip mine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
But Noah he sinned, and we have sinned; on tipsy feet we trod,
Till a great big black teetotaller was sent to us for a rod,
And you can't get wine at a P.S.A., or chapel, or Eisteddfod,
For the Curse of Water has come again because of the wrath of God,
And water is on the Bishop's board and the Higher Thinker's shrine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine.
poem by G.K. Chesterton

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Wine and Water
Old Noah he had an ostrich farm and fowls on the largest scale,
He ate his egg with a ladle in a egg-cup big as a pail,
And the soup he took was Elephant Soup and fish he took was Whale,
But they all were small to the cellar he took when he set out to sail,
And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine,
"I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
The cataract of the cliff of heaven fell blinding off the brink
As if it would wash the stars away as suds go down a sink,
The seven heavens came roaring down for the throats of hell to drink,
And Noah he cocked his eye and said, "It looks like rain, I think,
The water has drowned the Matterhorn as deep as a Mendip mine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
But Noah he sinned, and we have sinned; on tipsy feet we trod,
Till a great big black teetotaller was sent to us for a rod,
And you can't get wine at a P.S.A., or chapel, or Eisteddfod,
For the Curse of Water has come again because of the wrath of God,
And water is on the Bishop's board and the Higher Thinker's shrine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine.
poem by G.K. Chesterton

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet: The Old Well
The well that had given water to drink
For years and quenched the thirst of travelers;
With whose water, they’d bathed the beasts which stink,
Which flowed into the fields ‘yond for farmers.
The well that served for centuries thus,
Men and beasts and fields, not knowing their caste;
And continued to give water to us,
Perennially that was so sweet to taste.
The well of our ancestors, no more used,
Lies in ruins now and is very deep;
The corpse was found of a young man who ‘as killed!
Thrown into the well and made people weep.
The well that had given sweet water to drink,
It has now snakes, stones, garbage, corpses that stink.
poem by John Celes

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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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The Mother Believes Her Son
He is serving three years for armed robbery but the mother says my son is not a crim
He is not the one who robbed the uptown drug store for someone else the cashier mistook him
My son has told me that he is not guilty and what he tells me I always believe
He is a kind, honest and loving person and does not use guns and is not known to deceive
The mother believes her son has been wrongfully imprisoned she says my son should not be serving time
My son was mistaken for a lookalike person he was not anywhere near the scene of the crime
Of course she believes what her son did tell her even though her son told her a blatant lie
And she will go on believing he has been wronged right up until the moment that she die
You will not find a love truer or greater than the love a mother has for her daughter or son
She stands by them through their trials and tribulations her offspring in her life are number one
A good mother will stick up for her children despite what others of them have to say
She will always be there for to support them when all others from them turn away
Her son has served a third of his three year sentence she visits him every second day
She says my son he is not even guilty for someone else's crime why should he pay?
poem by Francis Duggan

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I Like My Mother
There's candy
Icecream
Chocalate
Good dreams
And I like my Mother!
Mothers are sweet
Mothers are nice
They help you
Give you good advice
And they make you cookies!
I like my Mother!
I like my Mother!
I like my Mother!
I Like my Mother!
I really
Like
My Mother!
Theres Uncles
Cousins
Sisters
Brothers
Fathe rs
And I like my Mother!
And I pray God
You'll let my Mother live a thousand years
So I don't have to get a job or do anything
And I can just live with my mother!
I like my Mother!
I like my Mother!
I like my Mother!
I like my Mother!
I really
Like
My Mother!
poem by Art Paul Schlosser

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