Rhapsody In Red

When morning breaks in shades of wine... with claret skies to blush the dawn... I will stretch and yawn, and thank the night for this polished, dappled day I will wait until the sun is high, and dew upon the rose is dry I'll have my cup, .. with toast and jam... then, make escape, ..........for the quest begins, to seek my small reward It happens slowly... gathering reason from an untamed mind up into the meadow where the brambles climb twisted and tangled, through the burgundy vines deftly my fingers, while probing the maze will reach for wild berries.....warm from the day thumping their goodness, one after one into the bucket, dented and worn A search through thorns, a prick on my thumb till my back is ripe, and wet in the sun Finger painting my faded old jeans Knowing my cheeks are flushing in pink Sucking sweet juice from two crimson thumbs Who cares a lick, of the thorns or a bee? I am a bee, buzzing serenity... plucking small bits of reason and sanity taking home goodness in a battered tin pail feeling alive, on this wild-flowered hill Tonight's sweet delight, is warm berry cobbler, oozing with goodness of juicy red gems staining my tongue, and turning lips scarlet dripping like blood drops onto my chin Yet never as splendid, or tasting as fine, as warmed by my smile, straight from the vine Picking red berries, and freeing my mind * * * * * * * * under clouds tinged vermilion from a gold-rimmed crimson sun