Who has cometh to wine and dine
upon thy simple words?
And would you care to cometh back
for seconds, even thirds?
Luscious grapes, fruit of thy vine,
perfecting on thy twine.
Stay and linger on thy lips,
sweet poetry and wine.
I knew thee well once long ago,
our words danced 'neath the moon.
I gave to thee, thy dewy heart,
that bloomed in early June.
Luscious grapes, fruit of thy vine,
perfecting on thy twine.
Stay and linger in thy mind,
sweet poetry and wine.
