Rhyming Haiku?

Leaf 366 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

Last autumn I was gifted three bottles of red wine by a family member who had been given them by their old boss. Their boss was a doctor who was retiring, and when shutting down his practice, he’d re-discovered the bottles of wine which he’d been gifted by some of his grateful patients over the years. He wasn’t sure when, but some of them had probably been given to him many, many years prior. The label was missing from one, another looked as though it might not be too old, but the third had a distinctly dried-out and brittle label which was almost detached – held in place only by a rubber band! – This bottle, so the label attested, was a Château Gombaude-Guillot Pomerol, 2001. Almost twenty-five years old!

We had no idea what conditions the bottles had been kept in. For all we knew they’d been successively exposed to the huge seasonal swings in temperature and humidity which afflict and overwhelm Japan each summer and winter over the course of the last two decades or thereabouts. So it was with some trepidation that I fished out my corkscrew from its kitchen drawer.

The first, unlabelled bottle of wine was undrinkable. It quickly disappeared down the plughole of the sink, followed by the sludge which had accrued at the bottom of the bottle. But, the Château Gombaude-Guillot Pomerol, 2001! – Well, contrary to expectations, it was really rather good. A splash of it helped to spice up a very delicious spaghetti bolognese and the rest of it was imbibed with suitable alacrity. It was only after opening it and discovering that it was indeed drinkable that a little research revealed that a bottle of this vineyard and vintage retails today for around $55! – and so the last few glasses were downed heartily with an honourable salute to the good doctor and his continuing health; may he have a long and happy retirement!

In addition, the following aberration of a haiku – or rather, a somewhat unconventional senryu – was penned after a couple of glasses of this very delicious Pomerol. With a somewhat nostalgic sense of amusement, it harks back to memories of many a local character I’ve met over the years, propping up the bar in the pubs of Cornwall. Every small village seems to have at least one such character, usually an old salt with a silver tongue!

This verse was originally posted on Bluesky, in response to a #haikufeels writing prompt, with the following explanatory prescript:

 

Somewhat shockingly, this one breaks a rule about NEVER writing haiku that rhyme. But if I blame the two very delicious glasses of red wine which I've just drunk a little too quickly this evening, maybe just this once we can let this one slip by unnoticed?  ... Cheers!

 

There he goes again!

 

For a pint of beer –

spinning another yarn

the grockles love to hear.

 

Dod Procter - Tolcarne Inn (1935)

Photographs by Tim Chamberlain