The Finer Things

The warm breeze flits upon his face
His smile deepens the lines age did trace
Essence of ripening fruit wafts over the vine
While the worker plucks the best to make wine
Oozing juices flow from the berry
Ripe and bursting, they can no longer tarry
Keep no more shall the Pinot Noir
Even a few more days, and it will go too far
Red stained with skins, in barrels perfumed during the roast
Infused in oak for vanilla, hazelnut, and toast
None of the other noble grapes can compare
To the delicate bouquet that the Pinot can share
He pours the elixir into the glass
Elegantly swirls it with utmost class
Velvety smooth it is to the taste
Infused with red fruit, with violet interlaced
Nutmeg, clove, it warms to the core
Even with all willpower one wants a sip more
Young wine, like a garnet does it glow
As subtle tannins tantalize one so
Refined is the art of mastering wine
Delight in the moment: appreciate what is fine.

Katia Renault ’19

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