Michael Shepherd

Rookie (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

0334 In Vino Veritas, In Birra Bonitas: In Praise Of Grape And Hop - Poem by Michael Shepherd

When heavy hangs the soul - if soul there be
in such a state of abject loneliness -
and all Creation's steeped in misery
and all bad influences join life's mess,

and melancholy blackens; hope recedes;
faith's gone; and love and charity lie hid;
and nothing seems good for the mind to heed,
no action springs to mind to lift the lid
that sits, black monster, on the love of truth,
of goodness, beauty - all this gone from hence;

then - wine, that warms the heart of man, must serve;
and hops, that give of God's benevolence:
and at the measured glass's end - God bless -
the possibility of happiness...


Comments about 0334 In Vino Veritas, In Birra Bonitas: In Praise Of Grape And Hop by Michael Shepherd

  • (9/2/2005 9:44:00 PM)


    Dear Michael,
    Thank you for your kind dedication.
    Please look at yours from me:
    'The Rich and the Pour'
    It took a little 'extra' reasearch for this one.

    Al=coholiquement votre,
    R.
    (Report) Reply

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  • (8/30/2005 8:45:00 AM)


    Very well textured and meaningful poem. Wonderful! (Report) Reply

  • (8/29/2005 12:30:00 PM)


    Just passed through Napa and did my usual tasting....ah, heaven! And I loved your poem, too. Good work.

    Raynette
    (Report) Reply

  • (8/29/2005 10:46:00 AM)


    Uriah, am I seeing double? Or is it both of you? (Report) Reply

  • (8/29/2005 9:45:00 AM)


    Any poem in praise of wine has my attention and affection. See Pablo Neruda's 'Ode To Wine.' And then there's this:

    Too much work, and no vacation,
    Deserves at least a small libation.
    So hail! my friends, and raise your glasses;
    Work's the curse of the drinking classes.

    Oscar Wilde
    (Report) Reply

  • (8/29/2005 8:48:00 AM)


    I know a little of these matters, great poem! (Report) Reply

  • (8/29/2005 4:17:00 AM)


    Love the rhythm, it seems to be so effortless.

    In vino veritas the doc exclaimed to all
    no poison can be drunk from these grape steins
    so let us celebrate with Bacchus in the Fall
    partake of hops and well-aged, hearty wines.

    H
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 29, 2005

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 20, 2010


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