by Lj Jaime Cordle

Created on: July 27, 2009

Poetry: Drinking

Love of mine,

Can you forgive me?

It was not I.

It was the wine.

That tender Beaujolais,

Virginal and so new.

It made me think of just you!

But then it was she,

Just 18 who appeared.

The second bottle was gone.

She was there,

You in our bed.

Where else was I

To lay my head?

Except upon that tender bosom

So young, so sweet

As the Beaujolais

An unexpected

Most welcome

Treat!

Forgive me.

I love just you.

A fine copa of wine,

Kills this love of thine?

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