A Very Fine W(h)ine

It tastes like cherries and sadness
With just a hint of despair
The plum notes contain certain madness
that releases when it breathes the air

The body is quite melancholy
It lingers with a pronounced dread
To drink it would be total folly
Let it age well like any good red

When you try it, I'm sure you'll agree
It has a distinctive bouquet
that tickles the nose with ennui
from terroir with a subtle dismay

Grown on a most morose vine
These grapes make a very fine w(h)ine.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Challenge, All In the Family in which we were to ask for a poetic first line from a family member and then write the rest of the poem. This first line came from my daughter, Baby Mouse (17).

The Love Of a Dog

                                                                                                                                                          

Our poodle when we adopted him

We brought him home when he was only three

A nervous, passive, scruffy dog, but he

Accepted us as family without doubt

And taught us all what love is all about.

His big black eyes hold not a bit of guile

I swear that I can even see him smile

And when he wags his fluffy little tail

I know, at least with him, I cannot fail

On his white fur I often lay my head

His head rests on my pillows in my bed

He listens to me when I’m feeling bleak

He knows just what to say; he doesn’t speak

The wonders of the world are large and small

 The love of a good dog can beat them all.

Soni, Christmas 2012

submitted for Poets United, Wonder Wednesday 17, Wonder