In just four short lines, Bonta sketches a scene aboard a cruise ship: people eating, chatting, drinking wine. The opening phrase, "a borrowed voyage," is the key to the whole thing. A borrowed trip isn't really yours. It suggests the speaker is passing through someone else's idea of travel, or enjoying a pleasure that feels temporary and slightly out of reach, rather than something truly earned or owned.
The ending delivers a quiet joke. After "we dine and talk," you'd expect the people to be the good company. Instead, "the wine is / excellent company." The line break after "is" makes you pause before the punchline lands. The speaker seems wryly amused, maybe a little detached, suggesting the conversation is pleasant but not memorable, and the wine is what really satisfies.
The mood is relaxed and gently ironic. Nothing dramatic happens. There's comfort and ease, but also a faint hint of emptiness beneath the polite surface, which the poem leaves for you to notice.