Just A Sip

Posted by Brad Osborne on January 12, 2020 · 12 Comments 

 

 

Your love grows in the vineyard

A gift from rain, soil, and sun

Birth of what you have to give

But the story is just begun

 

Each vine must be well tended

Protected from raven and crow

If the fruits of your labor

Are to have a chance to grow

 

Your patience is the virtue

For ripening to complete

Making sure the love you grow

Has the time to become sweet

 

Harvested so delicate

So, no berry will see a bruise

Perfect, little orbs of love

Fat with your sweetest juice

 

Trodden by angelic feet

Placed in the dark to ferment

Sparkle given to its sweet

And a touch of temperament

 

Aged inside your heart-shaped cask

It becomes as a fine wine

Stored and racked inside yourself

Rare, red elixir so divine

 

Won’t you save this thirsty man

Wet with your love these parched lips

I want so much to taste of you

Won’t you give me just a sip

 

I’ll risk the role of drunkard

Or of waking on the floor

Penance for that one sweet sip

That may leave me wanting more

 

If it becomes addiction

Then wino the chosen role

I’ll suffer that affliction

For communion with your soul

 

 

 

Filed under Poetry · Tagged with desire, drunk, growing, heart, love, poem, Poetry, ripening, strict form poetry, taste, tended, thirst, vineyard, want, wine