I believe that the responsibility of the winemaker is to take that fruit and get it into the bottle as the most natural and purest expression of that vineyard, of the grape varietal or blend, and of the vintage.
quote by Robert M. Parker, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0097 The vintage of a lifetime
As some sun-ripened vineyard-owner, rich
in slow maturing wisdom gained through time,
before that noble rot of trodden grape
yields untold harvest of a well lived life-
and proud that with his daily-tended skills
he'll win a vintage he will never taste -
so I, who seek to daily tend life's yield,
distil a vintage I shall never taste.
Mayhap some pencilled notes from wisdom's root
shall grow new generation's richer fruit.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Mother Exultant
Joy! Joy! Joy!
The hills are glad,
The valleys re-echo with merriment,
In my heart is the sound of laughter,
And my feet dance to the time of it;
Oh, little son, carried light on my shoulder,
Let us go laughing and dancing through the live days,
For this is the hour of the vintage,
When man gathereth for himself the fruits of the vineyard.
Look, little son, look:
The grapes are translucent and ripe,
They are heavy and fragrant with juice
They wait for the hands of the vintagers;
For a long time the grapes were not,
And were in the womb of the earth,
Then out of the heavens came the rain,
The sun sent down his warmth from the sky,
At the touch of life, life stirred,
And the earth brought forth her fruits in due season.
I was a maid and alone,
When, behold, there came to me a vision;
My heart cried out within me,
And the voice was the voice of God.
Yea, a virgin I dreamed of love,
And was troubled and sore afraid,
I wept and was glad,
For the word of my heart named me blesse'd,
My soul exhalted the might of creation.
I was a maid and alone,
When, behold, my lover came to me,
My belove'd held me in his arms.
Joy! Joy! Joy!
Now is the vision fulfilled;
I have conceived,
I have carried in my womb,
I have brought forth
The life of the world;
Out of my joy and my pain,
Out of the fulness of my living
Hath my son gained his life.
Look, little son, look:
The grapes are ripe for gathering;
The fresh, deep earth is in them,
And clean water from the clouds.
And golden, golden sun is in the heart of the grapes.
Look, little son, look:
The earth, your mother,
And the touch of life who is your father,
They have provided food for you
That you also may live.
The vineyards are planted on the hillside,
They are the vineyards of my belove'd,
He chose a favorable spot,
His hands prepared the soil for the planting;
He set out the young vines
And cared for them till the time of their bearing.
Nopw is his labour fulfilled who worked with God.
The fruit of the vineyard is ripe,
The vintagers laugh in the sun,
They sing while they gather the grapes,
For the vintage is a good one,
The wine vats are pressed down and running over.
Joy! Joy! Joy!
Now is the wonder accomplished;
Out of the heat of the living grape
Hath the hand of my belove'd
Wrung the wine of the dream of life.
Belove'd,
My little son's father,
Together we have given life,
And the vision of life;
Shall we not rejoice
Who have made eternal
The days of our living.
Look, little son, look:
The grapes glow with rich juice;
The juice of the grape hath in it
The substance of the earth,
And the air's breath;
It hath in it the soul of the vintage.
Put forth your hand, little son,
And take for yourself the life
That your father and your mother
Have provided for you.
Joy! Joy! Joy!
The halls are glad,
The valleys re-echo with merriment,
In my heart is the sound of laughter,
And my feet dance to the time of it;
Oh, little son, carried light on my shoulder,
Let us go laughing and dancing through the live days,
For this is the hour of vintage,
When man gathereth for himself the fruits of the vineyard.
1905
poem by Adelaide Crapsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Purest Feeling
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
Well I think Im gonna push it
As far as it will go
Give in to desire
Only you will know
So tell me all your secrets
Ill stick it in your head
I wish I could remember
Everything she said
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
Well she could be a saviour
With everything she does
Or some kind of punishment
For people just like us
I dont really believe she understands
Whats happening to me
The sooner that she gets it
The better it will be
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
Purest feeling
I have got to figure it out
I just want to know
I cant live with it
Purest feeling
Written and performed by: trent reznor
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
Color is for me the purest form of expression, the purest abstract reality.
quote by Jim Hodges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The bottle tree
A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
A snug little berth in that ship I demand
That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away
Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day
And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand;
You take of that fruit as much as you list,
For colic's a nuisance that doesn't exist!
So cuddle me and cuddle me fast,
And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,
For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
The Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day!
Heigh-ho for Winkyway land!
And Bottle-Tree fruit (as I've heard people say)
Makes bellies of Bottle-Tree babies expand -
And that is a trick I would fain understand!
Heigh-ho for a bottle to-day!
And heigh-ho for a bottle to-night -
A bottle of milk that is creamy and white!
So cuddle me close, and cuddle me fast,
And cuddle me snug in my cradle away,
For I hunger and thirst for that precious repast -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
poem by Eugene Field
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The father gave his son a vineyard, the son didn't give the father even a grape.
(It Was) A Very Good Year.
My minds image of my Ellen
Is like a rose preserved from time.
Or like a treasured bottle
from a vintage year for wine.
I am haunted by her memory-
How our fingers intertwined.
The fragrance of her body
as I held it close to mine.
I was Mars and you were Venus
your head rested on my chest.
A summer rain began to fall
persuading us to dress.
Now just the shadow of your smile
Brings tears to a dry place.
Funny how my heart can race
Within the ghost of your embrace.
.
You are unchanging, therefore perfect
Your aspect is divine.
I believe our year was vintage-
for love, if not for wine.
(Fifth poem in the Ellen cycle, A summer picnic at Planting Fields, Arboretum in 1979. It was a picnic, marked by a brief rain, where we shared a bottle of Mouton Rothschild)
.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Starlight Golden Nectar Ambrosia
soil grape vineyard
starlight
golden nectar
ambrosia
mountain wind
river valley
salient light
earth sky firmament
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Blend
blend, how did i ever use that word in my life?
blend with the people i work with, dissolve in their ordinariness
so i cannot be noticed anymore
i wear the same clothes, same brand and even same color to blend
with all of them, and so i am in, not a deviant, not an opposition
not a rebel but a supporter of their cause
blend with the crowd like cuts of carrots and apples and melons
in a blender and nothing is identifiable in that concoction
blend and blend and blend myself with the world and this universe
escape from my uniqueness betray my individuality
as all creeks and rivers all flow to the sea as one entity
away from loneliness, losing myself my thoughts
the I surrendering to the we, the coward one,
blending, and now there is no one, yet why this poetry apart from you?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blend, Do Not End
Blend. Sip your coffee.You blend to the colors
Of this room. Smell like a morning perfume of
Small red roses. Open palms. No collarbones.
Blend. Take your time. Familiar faces and freckled
Dreams. Blend, bend.
For God's sake, do not end.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rotgut
The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor
the moon by night. Psalm 121
On a hillside scattered with temples broken
under the dogday sun, my friend and I drank
local wine at nightfall and ate grapeleaves
in goat-yogurt glaze. The living grape vines
bore fruit overhead. Beyond our balcony,
beyond the Turkish rooftops, an old moon
touched Venus at one tip. This vintage,
he said, would melt pig iron. But I wondered,
were we drunk enough, and he said no. I took him,
staggering and laughing, in my arms, and soon,
with snow at nightfall easing off,
another old moon slid into the hill
behind my dead friend’s house. He loved
that smear of light cast back on it from earth.
poem by Brooks Haxton
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The purest expression of the doctrine of Liberalism was probably that of Benjamin Constant.
quote by Francis Parker Yockey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sparkling wine and blood
How should I know,
that red J Le Roux sparkling wine
and blood has the same colour.
The one foams
sparkling out of a beautiful bottle
and the other gushes out of an artery or drips
and comes from the heart.
Yesterday, it feels half a life ago,
there was grape moisture
that came from a bottle
while love was blooming in full.
Today the taste is still in my mouth,
there are still a few blocks of chocolate left
and I wonder when
we are going to eat the potato chips
and when you are gone,
it’s as if nothing here is right
and I loose my heart
bit by bit
with red blood.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Lemon's Quest
The whole of the fruit world were assembled
to hear what the lemon had to say.
In anticipation the fruit sat and trembled,
would it be the lemon’s day?
“Why can’t there be a sweet tasting lemon? ”
Said lemon in a tone of revolt.
To the fruit world this was open rebellion
and had to be brought to a halt.
The atmosphere turned sour towards lemon,
as he said, “This is not a lot to ask,
it’s a reasonable enough question,
and I’m sure not a major task.
I cannot understand your objections
about a fruit that wants to progress.
I’m open to all and any suggestions,
but until then I’ll sit and digress.”
The avocado replied to the question,
“The lemon is bitter and that is that! ”
“That’s an unfounded objection, ” said lemon.
“It maybe, ” said the Chairman, “but it is a matter of fact.”
The language was now strong and offensive,
as Chairman Plum called out for restraint,
“Order, fruit please, we must not be derisive.”
The tangerine looked likely to faint.
Chairman Plum summed up with a speech,
“This raises many questions for all nations, ”
he was then rudely interrupted by the peach,
“Just think about the complications? ”
A voice shouted from the back of the room,
it was grape with an answer to the problem,
“A sweet lemon must have its own bloom,
without it there will be no conclusion.
The answer is simply, graft and propagation,
a vine, with a lemon tree shoot.
It’s straight forward and without complication,
and should produce a sweet lemon fruit.”
The assembly calmed and became much quieter;
grape was thanked for his solution.
The outlook was now decidedly brighter,
bringing an end to the lemon’s resolution.
The lemon looked across at the chairman
and asked if there were any one with doubt.
The avocado said, “Yes, you give me indigestion, ”
“Out of order, ” said plum, “cut it out! ”
“All those in favour say aye, ” said plum.
“Then the ayes win the vote gentlemen.
We now await a fruitful outcome,
and this assembly is adjourned until then.”
One year later
On the grafted lemon tree a fruit appeared,
but the colour didn’t quite look right.
The lemon was fighting back his tears,
as the grape suggested more light.
Two weeks later
“What beauty of yellow and blue, ” said plum,
“It must be time to judge the taste, ” said grape.
“Why, it’s delicious and sweet; a job well done,
we must have a drink to celebrate.”
Three weeks later
At the next assembly, Lemon beamed with happiness
and announced the success of the new taste.
The avocado said, “I don’t wish to spoil your party,
but aren’t you celebrating in haste?
A lemon is a lemon and will be forever just a lemon,
a beautiful smelling fruit with a taste that's bitter!
I sincerely hope that you have learned your lesson,
a lemon no, but a new fruit that tastes much better.
So with this sweet new fruit I congratulate your success,
but lemon, please don’t try to be what you are not,
you’re famous for your aroma and countless other uses,
so be happy with what you’ve got.”
poem by Orlando Belo
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A purchased vineyard is tantamount to a stolen vineyard.
Bottle Of Red Wine
(by bonnie bramlett and eric clapton)
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
You hear what I say?
Gonna love you anyway.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I went to an all-night get together
And everyone I knew was there.
Had the love that would last forever.
Everywhere I looked, I saw you standing there.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
I cant get up out of bed
With this crazy feeling in my head.
I said get up right now, oh oh.
I said get up right now.
Feel so bad this morning; got a terrible headache in my head.
Do me a favor, baby, do me a favor please.
Please get up; get your man a bottle of red wine.
Get up, get up; get your man a big big bottle of red wine.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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