'Twas the eve before Christmas, and within dVIN's fold,
Corks had been popped, and great wine stories told.
The barrels were nestled in the cellar with pride,
Rare vintages chosen, the finest worldwide.
The members were nestled, all snug in their beds,
With visions of vineyards dancing in their heads.
The somm in his cellar, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out on the vineyard, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the cellar, I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the grapevines, a shimmering sight,
Gave the lustre of midday to the vines in the night.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight wine loving deer.
With a lively old vintner, so jolly and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now, Cabernet! now, Merlot! now, Chardonnay and Pinot!
On, Riesling! on, Malbec! on, Syrah and Zinfandel!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the rooftop, the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of wine, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The uncorking and pouring by each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and turned with a spin,
Down the chimney came St. Nick, with a wine-laden grin.
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with grape stains and soot.
A bundle of bottles he had flung on his back,
He looked a bit tipsy as he opened his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And filled all the glasses, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,
“I’m off to Bhutan, it’s quite a long flight!"
In the kingdom of Bhutan, where the mountains stand tall,
A vineyard emerges, to answer his call.
Members of dVIN, with hearts full of cheer,
Are invited to Bhutan, for the harvest premiere.
The air crisp and clear, with the scent of the vine,
Amidst prayer flags fluttering, a sight so divine.
Together we’ll gather, to nurture the earth,
To welcome new wines, and celebrate their birth.
For members of dVIN, a global wine clan,
Hands in the soil, is part of the plan.
For Bhutan's first vintage, a tale to be spun,
A journey of friendship, and wines to be won.
Investments in bottles, not just for today,
But a legacy cherished, as time slips away.
In the world of fine wines, where dreams intertwine,
Club dVIN's magic tells a tale so divine.
Speaking of Bhutan…
Check out our latest trip presentation for a more in-depth at look at what to expect around next year’s harvest adventures.









For more info check out: https://www.clubdvin.com/bhutan2024 .
That’s it for today. I’m off to pop a cork or two with my family in Canada.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Jana
Club dVIN Co-Founder