The Vinferno - Bonny Doon Vineyard

But with this daunting giant I had no real quarrel.
I stood in awe of its all-devouring appetite
As I stepped o’er ancient gobelet vines, wizened, gnarled.
Lucky I was that it did not wish to take a pre-emptive bite,
But retired to lick its own private parts
As I stood shivering in the falling light.
But this was not the end of further shocking starts.
As I next beheld a great Yellow Tailed Lion,
Loathèd for its ubiquity and noxious, mephitic farts.
I pressed ever upward on that steep incline,
Stumbling as I strode and prepared to flee
The most dangerous beast in the great commedia of wine.
Yet no one was laughing, least of all me,
For I had been nipped once before by this vulpine damozel
And knew how lethal its piercing wound might be.
The Spectacular She-wolf had an uncanny sense of smell.
Detection of a tragic flaw for one so prodigiously snouted,
Rated nada and a swift bite sent her victim straight to Hell.
I feared lest I found myself odiferously outed,
But these swirling thoughts were soon set aside.
“Who goes?” my own unrecognizable voice seemed to have shouted.
De Canto II
A tall and shadowy figure I had but just espied.
“Ne vous inquietez pas,” I heard him say.
“N’ayez pas peur,” (switching to English), “I will be your guide.”
“But who are you?” I asked with some dismay.
“You knew me as the legendary cellar master of DRC.
The name, monsieur, is (the late) M. André Noblet.”
‘Tis true I had had my share of spirits, but it is often a matter of degree
Whether one can trust one’s own credulous eyes
Or behold, say, an eau-de-vie de poire 1 -impaired fantasie.
“I’m not worthy, I’m not worthy,” I began to sycophantize.
“Tais-toi! My time here is short and I don’t suffer fools.
I have been sent by Herself, a name you will certainly recognize.”
“If you can’t suffer fools, who am I then to suffer ghouls?”
“Silence!” he thundered. “I come from Herself, Mme. Lalou,
Who bade me protect your unworthy self. Putain, she is cruel.
1 Pear brandy is known to be among the highest in methanol among the various eaux-de-vie. Curiously, in the U.S., there is a
maximum permissible level of methanol to be found in poire, whereas in France, there is a minimum permissible level.