He proffers me samples to praise or to blame,
And I strongly suspect they're exactly the same.
But we gaze at each other with critical eye,
And I wish he would hint if it's fruity or dry.
I want, say, a dozen of average stuff
(Though a couple of bottles were really enough),
And I enter his portals, reluctant and slow,
Resolved just to give him the order and go.
But he takes me in hand in his soothering style,
Suggests in a whisper, and "books" with a smile;