Sonnet for Jennifer

[vaneramos]

My cousin Jennifer marks wine, to think
it may provide me with some inspiration.
Indeed a merlot I prefer to drink.
As afternoon grows old, I take the station
at cluttered desk, and sometimes light a candle
to make provision for whatever god
might smile, and cast this way a hook or handle
as I through wretched language scrape and plod.
For red, it lights a spark, opens the mind,
invoking metaphors and strange connections
in prose or verse, and frequently I find
it sets one's thoughts on intricate new fictions.
At last, the writing done (before is risky)
I rather crave a glass of Irish whiskey.

I'm writing a poem every day in February. And today's rhyme scheme is for leafshimmer