Red red wine (also for Helga)

For all this time
I thought Bacchus was Roman

or possibly Greek
but it turns out
he was Georgian
and his cult
originated
not
in wooden casks

but
in clay pots

which raises the question
were those proto Russians
the beaker people

of their day
refugees
of another Stonehenge

of another time
and
when did grapes
or dates
and other fruits
of the vine
first find
themselves fermenting
and making
that mixture
which
does the duty
of Sidney's poesie

to teach and delight

surely the sommelier
who showed me
the best of the reds
inevitably dark and dry
had a point
when he said
the only real wines are red
and there is
no white Georgian

I played
at conversation
offering him
the logical point
that Georgian wines
are therefore real
in the relevant sense
giving him the point
but he told me
philosophy
or chopping logic
was
of no use
as he was talking
about taste
and the Georgian
tasted best
and there was
after all
no disputing taste
de gustibus
non est
disputandum
or words
to that effect

so I conceded the case
and sipped wisdom
from the chalice
that had poisoned
many another

I don't know
that I realized
at the time
the limitations
of logic
that Red red wine

could make
a sceptic blush

worse than
the sweetest
of roses

and the cheekiest
of ducks

so now I know
and will not soon forget
the background
of Bacchus
when
on Ukrainian Independence
I toast
the trident

with the fruit
of a Georgian vine.