Rose Poem by gershon hepner

ROSÉ

Don’t serve it icy, only chilled,
for icy is for beer,
don’t, when your glass is almost filled
with rosé, dare come near
to zero––worse, add cubes of ice
as philistines may do––
for chilled makes rosé very nice,
but when the rosé’s too
refrigerated it is wrong
to drink it, you must wait
and leave it in the sun, not long,
till Celsius is eight
or thereabouts and then drink up,
but if you’re really smart
you’ll put some red wine in your cup
or white, and never start
to drink the pink disgusting stuff,
for any connoisseur
will tell you none is quite enough,
and I would not demur.

Frank J. Prial praises rosé in the New York Times on June 25,1997. At Bonny Doon Vineyard in Santa Cruz Randall Grahm makes a rosé that he calls Vin Gris de Cigare. The name is given in homage to Chateauneuf-du-Pape where in 1954 the town banned flying saucers, called in French cigares volantes.

6/25/97