110 thoughts on “Wine

  1. “They bruise underfoot
    barrels brim in earnest dark
    and time turns into wine.”
    – I loved the ‘bruising underfoot’ – it reminded me of day long past when I would clamber into my grandpa’s barrel to help squelch the grapes. Your reference to time is beautiful and melancholy too.

    • How wonderful it elicited memories, Vic. The 2nd line was a toss-up between what I settled on and “barrels brim with alchemy.” The friends and bloggers I ran it liked both and where they differed, gave me an even split.

  2. Dreams vining, sometimes bruising, bursting into life’s wine–no reservations!
    Lovely, poignant piece, HW. Love the extended metaphor and the knockout first line: [a] vine of dreams….Salute!

    • So appreciate the detailed feedback, Chloe. They must bruise to give up wine. I almost said “bleed” but didn’t want to overdo it. Sounded morose, and I’m a minimalist — and you certainly deserve this salute back for your awesome posts on passion.

  3. Like Diahan says, the vine should grow bigger and better each year. Some new grapes appear and others fall off. Harvest them while you can! Nice post! Ms. Wayfarer!

  4. A succulent poem, captures it perfectly. You should send this one to The Blue Hour magazine, it’s a WordPress site publishing poetry, do you know it? One of the editors, Moriah, makes wine, and would LOVE this poem, I’m sure!

  5. This took me right back to a glorious visit to St Emilion, France, at harvest time. The sun shone through the leaves of the grapevine, the bunches of grapes were heavy on the vine, the wine conjured images of sun-bathed grapes, sweet and sharp at once….thanks for the memory. Mary

  6. Time turns into wine, love that, Diana. So many other things improve in life too, the fruits of perseverance, husbands, chocolate cake recipes, friendships, relationships, tolerance, forgiveness, wow.

  7. Hello Diana, visiting your blog is such a pleasure! I should do it more oftenly. There may be nothing for a poem to change / But an atmosphere. And so you changed the atmosphere of my Saturday morning.

My Two Gold Cents in the Holistic Treasury

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