A Poem about Wine Tasting

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I am a man who outside infrequently dines,
now off to a gentlemanly tasting of wines,
fine tailored suit, polished leather boot,
very well dressed, uncouth argument moot,
I reach there and everyone is simple
cargo shorts, noodle straps, freckles and pimple
laughter silly, cheeks red and mood light,
grass green, lovely sheen and weather bright,
“right this way sir!” I was ushered by the usher,
crisp suit, sophistication makes people a gusher,
wine and wine and this and that,
so many wines! Hit me with a bat!
merlot and pinot and Chardonnay and Blancs,
aliens in a bottles surrounded on both flanks,
look observedly how they drink,
learn quickly don’t appear a fink,
swiggity swirly sniff and sippity
just like us Indians sippity their tea,
cut the yakkity yak and drink thy wine
look like the lords and the gentlemen divine,
I take a glass and make it swirly
it shines red, shiny and pearly,
drink it down, but it’s in my teeth,
in my cheeks and in the roof and tongue beneath,
oaky and fruity and earthy and dry,
I cannot taste any of that, oh my god why?
I won’t give up and I will try and try and try,
until the flavors everyone sees I come by
oaky and fruity and oaky it is,
I did it and my mind is in a whizz
Oh lovely now I can talk wine
“what do you feel sir about that wine in hands thine?”
Oaky and fruity and wet and dry
loud conversations spirits high and spry
exchanging numbers and many smiles
impressed they are “are you from the British isles?”
Attention and friendship and wine and laughter
cheese and steak and Merlot after.

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