Oh my Zin you dark and potent brew,
You coat my pallet with warmth and reddish hue.
My lips do purse to catch the rim,
While your potent payload hides within.
Red and black the colors of your fill,
Aromas of cherry and smoke tugging at my will.
Another sip, another taste your strength becomes my night,
Liquid courage subtle, then strong and delayed in might.
My senses dull and my mind does race,
My sexual desires turn rosy upon my face.
From gnarly old vines a beautiful tale your body does tell,
Sinful old Zin I will adore you forever and even in Hell.