My Grape's Wrath

Grapes are amazing,

Grapes are supreme.

They come in reds,

Or my favorites: green.

Fresh they are succulent,

And oh so sweet.

When they start to ferment,

They are an even better treat.

My toes start to tingle,

My eyes open wide.

It makes me eagerly show,

What I eagerly hide.

I dance upon tables,

I fall upon floors.

I bounce off of walls,

And straight into doors.

And so the last I remember,

On the thirty first of December.

Was not the ball of New Year's Eve,

But my dinner I did heave.