Your Fine Wine Poem by Kimberly Woodward

Your Fine Wine



Circumstance might have brought you here
But I'm so sorry,
you just don't belong my dear,
but don't fret or be sore,
You're quality at your very core.
it can't be helped,
You're the eagle flying so high,
we the ducks
waddling and slow.

You the Rolls Royce we the Pintos,
Chevy's and Fords,
You're the Country and I'm just on Tour.

I'm the cow that got to dance with the deer
How fortunate was I
to end up here.

You the stallion running with the mule,
Slowing down to let me catch up,
Your fine wine, and I am the cup.

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