A Gourmet's Odyssey

Oft in cloistered solitude have I gloried
In the iambic beat of Homer's tales,
And alone in some deep silence, grieved
O'er my fate, an Idealist searching for the Light,
A Tantalus forever reaching and reaching far
too far.
Oftimes 'neath green-leafed tree have I heard,
The trembling notes of the immortal bird,
And welcomed wistful thoughts of Adonis,
By far the sweetest singer of them all,
And once alone I heard the sullen beat
Of seas breaking on some distant shore,
And with eyes tear-dimmed I spoke aloud,
"0n your breast, bold mother,
Did Shelley find his peace,"
Once 'neath moonlit sky, the world
Was left to silence and to me,
And my heart swelled as I whispered
The words of an elegy.
But now, as in my hand I hold this parchment,
I feel a peace far greater than I have ever known:
Unlike Tantalus my fingers touch the grape,
Strange passion surges and parches my throat,
nticipation of Rabelaisian joys to come
Drug my drowsy senses numb,
Making Raging and the Mocker,
Temptations too hard to resist,
As in my hand I hold this wine list.

—G. I. J.