It was about a year and a half ago when I first decided to “put myself out there.”  Writing again…publically…as in let-someone-I don’t-know-read-my-thoughts.  I hadn’t written anything creatively in years.  Not since the tumultuous relationship of my 20s with the distant artist type.  But I found the right catalyst.

My 2 yr old daughter was watching Elmo, my 3 month old son was sleeping.  Browsing Facebook (a SAHMs only social outlet somedays) I came upon a poetry contest that was being held by Gundlach Bundschu, our favorite wineries in Sonoma.  The history of this estate vineyard is amazing.  Some of my best memories in Sonoma are at Rhinefarm so it was easy to find inspiration.

I reflected on our visits there.  Newlyweds, no responsibilities, fine wine, blue teeth. Now, we were lucky to get to open a bottle of their wine and remember… I figured I had about 15 minutes so I knocked out a few stanzas (the 152 word limit) and would revisit it when the fog cleared from another sleepless night.  A few tweaks later, I sent it off.  What could it hurt?

It didn’t hurt anything.  Instead, it healed.   It reminded me that there was a me before diapers, nightfeeds, dishes, and dustpans.  A me that was an okay writer once upon a time.  A me that could capture a sentiment in words, even if only for myself.  I received third place in the contest, but really I received much more than that.   So here it is, an ode to Gundlach Bundschu, to wine, to my kids, my husband…and to me.

Remove a swirl

Of crimson foil,

Exhaling from another day’s toil

A sigh of relief

The cork releases

Oh, what a sound; my joy increases

What is the mood?

Stem or stemless?

My turn to pose a question, endless

One last check on

Children sleeping

No one stirring, no one weeping

A splash of ruby

Zinfandel

Entices with its luscious smell

The lights are dimmed

The table set

Reminding us not to forget

The early days

We frolicked ‘tween

The weighted fruit and rusted leaves

Golden sun, swirling red

We let the warmth

Go to our heads

And now we have

Just our memories,

A taste of days we seldom see

Days of freedom

Days of yore

I smile at the wine he pours

Close my eyes,

Velvet fruit to savor

There is nothing like the Gundlach flavor

So, tonight we will

Cherish our Sonoma escape

Swept away until our children awake