Air, Water, Food…..Red Wine Poem by Frederick Francis

Don’t get me wrong,
White wine does have its place:
Among women in floppy hats,
Men in suits and bowties.
With crisp linens on the table.
Kissed by a warm sun that dances
With your wine in its crystal glass.

But……

Red wine is laughter
Floating off into the night air,
Filling you ears
As the bouquet fills your senses.
Enjoyed with close friends.
Lubricating the social connections
That continue to allow you
To move through life each day.

Each sip exhilarates your senses.
First a sweet reminder of
Your burgundy compatriot’s attendance
At so many of your successes.
Followed by a slight bitter hint
As you recall some meetings were, regrettably,
Undertaken with a heavy heart;
Although these memories some how escape you.

Red wine is passion.
It is sitting on a crowded patio,
In stifling heat,
Yet you still feel that shiver.
As you sit across a small table,
Separated only by
A single rose in a glass vase.
An invisible barrier preventing you
From getting completely lost
In the beautiful eyes across the table.

Red wine is:
My red stained lips,
Curled into a grin. Exposing
My red stained teeth.
When I come to realize
My bottle is not half empty,
I am just half way
To starting the next one.