Be My Red Wine Poem by April Humason

In twilight halls where lanterns glow,
A restless heart begins to slow.
A thirst not born from holy well,
But from the glittering, scented spell.

I tasted love that wasn't pure,
Soft lips that could not heal the cure.
Sweet as wine upon my tongue,
But slowly stole the song I sung.

Silken laughter filled the air,
Perfumed promises everywhere.
Golden cups and jeweled lies,
Wrapped in warmth — but dimmed my eyes.

Not all sweetness comes from truth,
Not every bloom is bound to youth.
Some beauty bends the soul astray,
And pulls the feet from wisdom's way.

The crown grew heavy on my head,
As sacred whispers softly fled.
I loved too much what fades and fails,
And let desire tip the scales.

Yet still the Book remembers me,
A king who lost his clarity.
Not for shame — but so the heart may see:
Without the Lord — no victory.

Let wisdom be the drink you choose,
Not crimson cup that makes you lose.
For love that lives beyond the flesh
Is born from God — forever fresh.