#NaPoWriMo Day 11 : An Ode To Vinho Verde

Let thy river run with wine,
with poetry,
or with virtue,
Thy subtle taste that illuminates my senses,

L’eloge De L’eau
the earthly splendor of life.

'Tis a smile,
'Tis a kiss,
'Tis but a sip of wine that intoxicates you with freedom
for
A score of mates who think it no sin
Thou monarch of the vine,

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
Cheereth to man and man who condemn the drink of life,
thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee the corkscrew.

Alas, Wine is bottled poetry and its taste is the language upon our lips and the end which allows us to preach the sober man's thoughts.
It comes in at the tongue and love through the eyes,
So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time like the Men of Gotham "our ballast is old wine."