by Rose Siemens
Yes, I really did write this.
Shiraz, oh prize fighter of grapes, no other wine can quite compete
with your tooth staining consistency and your jammy complexity.
I remember when we met; you were wearing a sassy bright bottle
and me innocent, easily wooed by a label that beckoned so sexily.
Captivated, I strode with purpose, taking your fullness into my hands
and turning you over, I devoured the writing upon your back label.
My throat constricted and vision unfocussed as pictures filled my mind,
the attraction was dangerous, new, exciting… the want inescapable.
We rode home together that night and I stood you up on the counter,
making myself wait patiently as I gathered olives, cheese, and bread.
Grabbing you firmly by the neck I began my greedy way with you,
yielding, extracting your cork with a sigh… a whiff of darkness so red.
Did my hands tremble as I reached for a glass? I can scarcely recall,
for your depths compelled me to experience and eagerly I was pouring.
Nearly purple in colour, completely opaque… you were enigmatic;
a swirl of your thick liquid and the blood in my veins began roaring.
Aromas of blackberries, plums, chocolate, wood smoke, and pepper
burst on my senses as I drew in deeply of your heady fragrance.
Deft use of oak, a breath of blue violets, inhaling the more I discovered
until the next step was inevitable. I raised the glass with reverence.
My lips touched the rim and my tongue quickly followed, exploring
and tasting, wanting to be filled and consumed while also consuming.
The wine kissed my palate and how lusciously you embraced me…
so fundamental yet approachable, my love rushed into full blooming.
And then… I swallowed.
All you’d suggested in your bouquet was satisfied in my mouth,
your perfumed promise kept and made good to satisfy my craving.
As well as black fruit, chocolate, and spice you put out firm tannins,
full weight, and a finish that sparked wantonness simply depraving!
To describe what transpired next would be terribly, awfully unseemly;
suffices to say you did not leave my side, and I smitten, did linger.
We’ve recreated that night quite often since then, this bottle and I
Oh Shiraz, you have won me, wrapping me tight round your finger.
