Fermentation

Today was spent in fermentation,
Both metaphorically and literally.
The old year is drawing in,
Like my tightening post Christmas waistband,
My mind is slowly,
Pickling the plans and ideas for the new one.
I ruminate,
And cut up red slaw for sauerkraut.
The past and recent hurts are mouldering.
I discard them like the dregs of the Merlot,
I have just siphoned into bottles.
Gulps of wine swallowed in the process,
Leave me verbose,
And slightly adled.
I sing carols expressively,
Two days late,
(no visuals required)
And I make yoghurt.
The dramas of the festive season curdle in my guts.
While sour dough bubbles neath its plastic sheath.