Bordeaux 2022

The sun burned bright in twenty-two,

Through vines of green, the west wind blew.

In Médoc lands and hills of Saint-Émilion,

A vintage born with fire and song.

Raise your glass, let the barrels roll,

From Pauillac’s strength to Right Bank soul.

In every drop, the summer grew,

Crimson gold — Bordeaux ’22.

At Léoville Poyferré’s gate,

The gravel danced beneath our fate.

Silken tannins, depth and pride,

Dark fruit dreams with iron stride.

And up at Troplong, high on stone,

The limestone sang its baritone.

Plush and bold, yet full of grace,

A mountain star in warm embrace.

Pontet-Canet, with horses free,

Plowed the rows in harmony.

Biodynamic, bold and true,

It speaks of earth in every hue.

Raise your glass, let the barrels roll,

From Pauillac’s strength to Right Bank soul.

In every drop, the summer grew,

Crimson gold — Bordeaux ’22.

So here’s to those who walked the vines,

To heat and drought and shifting times.

Yet still the wines, they rise and shine —

A year to mark, a year divine.

Crimson gold — Bordeaux ’22.

We drink to you. We drink to you.