Red Wine

I have a special fondness for red wine,
Which catches sunlight nobly, subtlety
Its hallmark, rising to meet misery
And conquer, so we drink it when we dine,
Glaring at one another. Grant me a sign,
I pray, show some compassion when you see
The way she points her three-tined fork at me
And smiles the way no one's face ought to shine.

Champagne does not reflect the way I feel,
While still white wine comes pouring in a rush
And gurgles happily. After a hush
I clamber over furniture, I kneel,
Pretend my heart is full, finish my meal,
And sip the wine, dark, velvety, and lush.