Grapes

Beautifully earthen,
Growing from small hard green fruits,
Summers sweet days
Warmly emerging
Its perfectly rounded clusters.
Scarlet red,
Skin so smooth,
Almost human;
Breast like,
Hanging in their gravity
Laden in heavy nectar

I will Sheppard them,
These succulent orbs
Gently cradled in my hands,
Until they give themselves
To the heart wood of the oak.
Ripened flavor transformed,
Indescribable,
Sensuously,
 Bursting forth
     Its liquid seduction

Loving vines
Turn in the fall from
Summer’s green
To whisper hues of gold
And blushing red,
Leaves briefly grace the hillside
Then fall
 Tenderly drifting
 To kiss the dry earth
       Returning home