Létra

Walking down from the vineyard of an evening
the sun would be striking off the hilltops
as we followed the tractor down
with the last load of grapes for the press

the setting sun would fire the red roofs scarlet
through the evening haze
and gild the honey stone
until the very countryside looked blessed

Morning brought a different colour
A cold transformation firing the vine leaves
russet, purple, red and gold
and icing the grapes with a silver dust

Walking up the rows in pairs
singing through the backache, filling buckets
with bunches of ripe Gamay, working towards
the glass of wine at the end of row break

Ridha's underwater camel dance
the whole day Malcolm gave to bread soup songs
(tunes from West Side Story), Leader of the Pack
from me and Brian with crash effects

And evening time, the golden years,
Steve's violin against the farmhouse wall,
after dinner, songs and wine, capped always
by Antonin's 'Ma Beaujolaise'

© LMC 2009