Some people prefer to eat candy,
While others like berries and cream,
For me it's not so,
But still I've been told,
That a small bit of chocolate's a dream

Beyond what I eat, my usual repast,
Bread and water, they suit me just fine,
My favorite thing,
The unquestioned king,
Is a bottle of Moghedu wine.

Wine, wine, the love of my heart,
O surely I'd perish if we were apart,
Wine, wine, you make the day start,
Your makers are artisans - o what an art!

A sweet white is fine on a hot summer noon,
A rose when you're leaning both ways,
A challenging red,
With dinner; at bed,
As a way to cap off the day

An Enorian blend, for that southwestern taste,
And up north, the wine's frozen to ice,
No matter the find,
No matter the kind,
Wine is so lovely and nice

Wine, wine, the love of my heart,
O surely I'd perish if we were apart,
Zaila made me write this song for a dare,
Now everyone sees why my poetry's rare.

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 7th of Ios, in the year 468 MA.