Whose wine is it, anyway?

There was a circuitous girl who had little grace, But she was demure with a pretty face. She had never ever been asked to prom, So she binge watched sappy romocoms. One day, a good Knight, asked her for a dance, She leaped up and grabbed the wonderful chance, She agreed to go with him for a New Years ball, But it escaped her mind that she can’t dance at all. The good knight placed his hand on her waist, and drew her close as they lissomely paced. He suddenly turned her like a spinning top, Once twirled, she just wouldn’t stop! Off she spun, like a merry-go-round, Upsetting dancers all around. Windswept like a tornado— menacing, Her turns were faster than cars in Grand Prix racing. The good knight, confused and unsure what to do, Went and helped himself to a piece of chicken or two While she tossed into a mighty spin, He went over to the bar and drank all the gin. Towards the buffet table, she turned course, Where he sat explaining centrifugal force. She cra