Yes fill my glass, I care not the origin of the grape, only the ease in which it can lull my wilted heart and sooth my weary soul.

there is much to be said of the fruit of the vine
many
have spoken of it’s merits
few
have understood
it’s magic
a full robust flavor
for the pallet
a kind and gentle release
for the soul
an unwinding from the toils of the day
the wretchedness of the life
awaits
and my mouth waters as the cork is pulled
and my heart yearns
for the moment
that once again
all is well all is good all is right
laugh
be merry
raise the sweet nectar
in a toast
to life
in a toast
to new friendships found
old friendships cherished
raise a toast to health
to joy to beauty to freedom
raise a toast
and drink deeply
for in the bottom of the glass
the truth is told
in the faint etchings
of
a
wilted heart