Soft Spot

 

 

Soft Spot

 

Let me feel your kitten paw

against my neck                                                       
 

Let me see the peach blush

radiate from your cheeks
 
Let me hear your oak leaf rustle
tickle my eardrums
 

Let me taste your oven-fresh bread

melting  in my mouth
 

And let me join you

so we float
through a haze
of  dancing candle shadows
in jasmine scented nights
 

I will tell you stories

of castles built on mountains

 I will show you winter nights

wrapped warm in pouffy spun clouds
 

I will touch your soul

with caress of a fledgling feather

I will feed you unending morsels of laughter

to nourish your being

 And if all these things happen

even in the sweet flicker of an instant
I will open that deepest part of me
and allow you to hold it in your hand

 

-Jerry Wendt 2013

 

Touch

Touch

 

Words cannot fit inside brackets     

anymore than a smile

can hide behind staunch facade.

There are so many ways to radiate

seasons of feeling,

but academic expressions

always place a

distant second

to a simple touch.

 

 

-jerry wendt 2013

Winetasting in verse

Tasting Some Wine

 

First comes appearance

I  judge cloudy or clear.

Is the color as should be

Or is there something to fear

 

Next comes aroma

With nose deep in the bowl
 

I was a part of serious winetasting weekends at Dr. John Rippon's
 summer home in Sawyer Michigan for decades.
 Our group would gather and each contribute to gourmet repasts
after tasting a myriad of wines in flights.
 It was a Baccanal that I retain fond memories of.
 At this table is Dr Margaret Dougles, myself, Dr John Rippon
 

I savor bouquet,

Ah, smells for the soul

 

I raise up my glass

Anticipate the wine

Drink deeply and rejoice

This fruit of the vine

 

The first sip is best

My palate is fresh

I savor the flavor

Bad, better, or best

 

Now swirling around

Inside my mouth

I draw in some air

Before gulping south

 

I  raise up my glass

Anticipate the wine

We scored every flight wine tasted blind using a 100 point scoring
 system involving appearance color smell aroma
 and bouquet and taste acid balance body flavor.
 It was an intensive but enjoyable experience
 

Drink deeply and rejoice

The fruit of the vine

 

With one final slurp

I rinse and chew bread

And fill out my score sheet

Before the wine goes to my head.

 

And that’s what I do

To properly taste

But I’ll tell you a truth

I never spit and let waste

 

I  raise up my glass

All bottles brought by group members
were wrapped in paper bags so every tasting was "blind"

Anticipate the wine

Drink deeply and rejoice

This fruit of the vine

 

This is my passion

To taste many all year

And perhaps find one bottle

That I can hold dear

 

And so should you find me

With just one glass of some Rhone

Just keep on a walking

And leave me alone

 

I  raise up my glass

Anticipate the wine

Tastings were always held in the Belvedre Cottage, a screened room
 in the midst of  forested gardens on the
 Rippon  Michigan  Warren Dunes property

Drink deeply and rejoice

The fruit of the vine

 

But if at my table

There’s another empty glass at my station

Then come and sit down,

Pour yourself a libation

 

Because in tasting a wine

There’s one truth at end

Nothing goes better

Than sharing with friends

 

So,  I  raise up my glass

And toast with my wine

With these grapes I pay tribute

To all friends that are mine.

                                                                           -Jerry Wendt 2010



The Belvedre, our gathering spot every summer. Idyllic !

Writer

Writer

 

I want you to see shaded lush forests behind your eyes,  

 feel wilting desert heat on your skin,

and  shiver from the loneliness outpouring my soul

bursting  “AH-HA” moments of shared memory 

 

I want to reach out taking your hand

offering  gifted pieces of me

to use as  patches for your

own road puncture wounds

 

I want you to hear the wind

while crowds resonate around you

transporting you  to your private  island

where perpetual sunsets  purge exhales of exhilaration

 

I want you to sense my heart

beating with lifeblood of cherished experiences

making  pages melt from paper to flesh,

validating why I write.

-jerry wendt 2013