Fine Wine (romantic poem)

angpd: FINE WINE


I drink now of this lady
She my palate will caress
She warms my very being
And ends my loneliness

She is the ripened grape I pluck
To my touch, her skin will yield
The sweetness that she is inside
To me she has revealed

The clarity that's in her
Brings me rainbows, not the rain
With that spirit effervescent
She's the finest French Champagne

If you see her you will know her
In the room, will fall a hush
Her bouquet is that of Zinfandel
Her softness that of blush

She is a rich warm Burgundy
My taste buds to excite
The fullness of her body
In my arms now late at night

As gentle as the morning dew
On the arbors of the Rhine
Yes, this lady should be savored
Like a bottle of fine wine!

WineNSarcasm: I LIKE it !

Saltywater: nice words mate