Cranberry Wine

Gliding as on sheets of glass
Each subtle move imbued with grace
She surges fore and left to pass
And leaves another in his place.

Ever constant her advance
Never with a hint of strain
Her motion is more like a dance
That proceeds through wind and rain.

What an oddity this love,
That ensnares, subdues, beguiles,
And makes one a proponent of
Life measured in driven miles.

Place your hands upon her wheel
Admire her sleek and clean design
But beware!  Or you may feel
The stupor of Cranberry Wine...