We Coalesce
The taste of the hot winter wine.
As we talk, we coalesce,
I watch you at work with a spoon,
Is it Bouillabaisse, or am I misplaced,
Or is it the effects of the moon?
I watch as you light the bubbles,
Then a blue flame dances on top,
Of the mulled wine mixed with orange,
As the bubbles explode in a pop.
Sipping the wine, we do it in time,
I look over the rim of my cup,
We speak in familiar voices,
And then we’re ready to sup.
The food is divine, as is the wine,
And the conversation is cool,
Open rapport as we peek out the door,
Harmony is the golden rule.
She’s slim and intense, with good common sense,
And her beauty floats in the air,
The kudos of a home-cooked meal,
A feeling that says do you dare?
As fast as it started it finished,
I float home on a wing and a prayer,
A feeling of pure contentment,
Even though I am home, I’m still there.
When the wind blows, nobody knows,
Nature has a plan of her own,
Whatever the weather we’ll come back together,
We will know when we’re in the zone.
It may be an eclipse, next time that we kiss,
Or a moment decided by time,
I’ll remember August, and what knocked me over,
The taste of the hot winter wine.
©
David Rudder
2023
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