Cork Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I saw you, naked one,
inside the Beaujolais,
you swam,
came to the top
to see who'd come
and that is when
I got a glimpse
and fell, I thought
into a fiery love.

So, having been prepared,
I placed the cork
into the neck again,
and hammered with
my ten pound little friend.
The aim was to be sure
that you'd be safe and sealed,
within the reach of me.

Don't worry, dear,
I'm here for you,
and when the time is right
I shall extract it with my golden screw.
And hand the spills
as well as bits of cork to you.