Sonnet To An English Sunday Afternoon

Relaxing on a Sunday afternoon
In garden chair on lawn with glass in hand
Under a sky so blue that seems in tune
With siestas being taken cross the land
Where time stands still and sleep creeps up to bid
Each languisher the rest that they deserve
And slowly close and seal heavy eye lid
With sips of chardonnay from wine reserve
Yet clouds blow in from far flown eastern shore
A breeze besets the garden’s sultry bliss
Chilled wine sojourns and can be poured no more
Instead a cup of tea cross lips does kiss
       For Sunday afternoon is but a dream
       But not always as warm as it might seem

English: The Victorian garden, Burnby Hall, Pocklington The Balk, Pocklington, YO42 2QF. The lake in the gardens has more than 80 lily cultivars and houses the National Collection of water lilies. Sunday afternoon band concerts in the Summer. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Vino!

Friday night and six o’clock
Afore one sits to dine
Collect a glass and top it up
Of chilled refreshing wine

A Pinot or a Chardonnay
Or Chablis if you dare
Just take a glass of vino to
Chillax; let down your hair!

Or maybe Merlot or indeed
Cabernet Sauvignon
Will tempt you then to check your glass
You simply can’t go wrong!

For with a sip of grape that’s been
Fermented on the way
The weekend starts with earnest to
Signal it’s time to play

Cold French wine Chablis made from Chardonnay (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Wine O’Clock

A wine shortage – are you quite mad?
What has the world come to?
For it is said in a short time
There’ll be quite a to do
As then for sure a glass of white
For instance Chardonnay
Will not be such a common thing
As it is now today

And then what will become of that
Infamous hour we call
Wine O’clock when all folk stop
To pop a cork and all
To then partake in a small drop
Or glass or two of wine
For as we know some Beaujolais
Can make all things seem fine!

Glass of Beaujolais wine. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)