Drunken Masters: Summit Sirens

Forget about the father, the son and the holy ghost. The original trinity is wine, women and song. As you drift down the Rhine from winery to winery, if you listen carefully you might here that beautiful and dreadful song. The Siren Song. If you are a woman you will hear your power. If you are a man you may hear your demise.

As owner and winemaker of Poetic Cellars in Soquel, CA, Katy Lovell is one of the group of five feisty wine women now claiming the title of Summit Sirens She has long been in love with wine and everything it represents. She’s an accomplished artist in every sense of the word. Trained as a classical musician (flutist) at Interlochen Arts Academy, Oberlin Conservatory of Music and USC (Master in Music), she performed professionally in New York City and Los Angeles.


Katy received her wine education at UC Davis, and was owner and award-winning winemaker in the Livermore Valley at Rios-Lovell for 12 years before acquiring her present oak-studded winery property in the Santa Cruz mountains. Her three children assist with the never-ending winery tasks and at the tasting bar.

“Her passion is capturing and crystallizing varietal expression, and conjuring up unique blends that marry the personalities of each grape to create bottled poetry,” says wine marketing authority Laura Ness.

With eight varieties grown in her Livermore vineyard and three sourced from Santa Cruz mountain vineyards, Katy makes everything from fruit-driven Chardonnay and Pinot, to rich, dense Syrah and Petite Sirah. Her signature varietal is a smoky and sexy Mourvedre.

Poetic Cellar’s Katy Lovell is a skilled blender with a deft touch:

“Mantra” isa cherry-happy blend of Mourvedre, Syrah and Sangiovese.

“Ballad” is a smooth crooner of Cabernet, Merlot and Cabernet Franc.

“Quattrain” combines Zin, Syrah, Mourvedre and Merlot.

“Serenade” blends the suppleness of Syrah with the peppery punch of Cabernet.


I prefer to pair my wine with some cheese and a little poetry.


I wish I knew the meaning,
A sadness has fallen on me.
The ghost of an ancient legend
That will not let me be.
The air is cool in the twilight
And gently flows the Rhine;
A mountain peak in the setting sun
Catches the faltering shine.

The highest peak still gleaming
Reveals enthroned in the air,
A Siren lost in her dreaming
Combing her golden hair.
With golden combs she caresses
Her hair as she sings her song;
Echoing through the gloaming
Filled with a magic so strong.

The boatman has heard, it has bound him
In throes of desire and love.
He’s blind to the reefs that surround him,
He sees but the Maiden above.
And now the wild waters awaken
Then boat and the boatman are gone.
And this is what with her singing,
The Lorelei has done.


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