The Devil's Head Red started with a freeze that led to a poem, that led to a wine, that led to a label, that led to the trophy for best semi-dry red in Michigan at the 2013 competition in Lansing.  A freak of a spring in 2012 saw 80 degree temperatures in March. Peaches and cherries bloomed and had small fruit when hard freezes in April wiped them out. With nothing to harvest in July and August, we found ourselves depressed, bored and with time on our hands.  The only logical thing to do was write a poem.  That, and figure out what to do with the two tanks of wine in the cellar holding a couple new grape varieties.  Funny how things work out.   



JUNE 2012

     SYMPATHY FOR THE VINTNER


“An idle mind,” Mom used to say,
“Is the perfect place for the devil to play.”
But it’s summertime and the crops are all dead, and I’ve got a bad case of the devil’s head!
I could study French, but it’s so hard to learn. Might go to the beach, but I don’t want to burn.
I could fly a plane, but I’m afraid it will drop. I’d go have a drink, but I’m afraid I won’t stop.
I could work out, perhaps jog a bit.
But I might lose weight, then my pants won’t fit.
I could get a job at the dollar store.
But I’m much too old to make change any more.
I could just stay home and bother my wife. But she says that I shouldn’t, if I value my life.

Could work on the farm, but let’s not get fanatic. Ignorance is bliss; I’m feeling ecstatic.
“An idle mind,” Mom used to say,
“Is the perfect place for the devil to play.”
But it’s summertime and the crops are all dead, and I’ve got a bad case of the devil’s head!