Dregs Have Flown Poem by Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)

Red wine like warm blood
flowed from our glasses.
Invigorating finely tuned senses
where race inherited memory reclined.

Taste on titillated etherized tongues
has tang exploiting grape crushed peel
sweet wine courting chilled flute
melodies dance expunging former mire.

Sunset red pink rose purple
blooming across arching horizon
night an ink black vesper veil
dried over coagulated rusted wounds.

Life transposes in transubstantiation transitions
rendering real time lost archaic reality.
Changing perceived natural chaotic order
into radiant wine born illusive illusory lulled time.

Red wine like copious blood
flowed from our drinking cups
like blood a rejuvenating nectar.
Bacchus life burned within veins.

In symposium enchanted Bacchus dew unshackles
burdensome inescapable narrow banded male lives.
Personalities yield to ecstatic natural forces
Bacchantes dance in frenzy raptured moonlight.

Ivy-crowned and joyous draped, dance Bacchantes dance
escape within Bacchic frenzy fever; of ecstasies deepest mystery.
Flame eternal runs in the veins of adorated Bacchus
fermented juices stain not his matchless divine radiance.


See also the poem ‘Bacchus’.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock