Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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Purple Majesty
We had saved our precious stock of grandpa’s grape prepared the ground and amended the soil. After laying out the orchard, we planted cuttings with our own hands. Fed the young vines with love and creek water and waited for the work of the rain and sun before giving birth to the wine. To insure that his family would produce the best wine. Grandpa, tho’ as straggly as his grape cleared trees and topped them to admit the sun. He would not purchase plants for his soil and dug the trenches wider and accessed our water. He was self sufficient and he propagated vines by his hand We prevented winds from whipping vines out of hand to best grow and mature the soul of our wine. The vines followed the contour of steep site which brought the water. The rows ran north and south to suit the grape - - this presented light while drying and controlling the soil allowing the plants to follow the eastern and western sun. We placed much faith on the drying done by the sun. We had one to backfill. We wished we had more willing hands. We had two to dig holes, and one to hold the vine and tamp the soil, as the fruit began to ripen to marry our precious wine. A crew of four was used for setting the grape. The Vines should not be sprinkled with too much water. We made plans to prevent soil erosion and loss of water to the harden the wood and expose it to rays of the sun. The Niagra White and Riesling grape. Both needed pruning and the waste hay cut our hands. We made sure our methods were best for the wine. They would mature late, even in warm soil. We found that more humus was wanted by the soil. Some magic was performed to deliver more water. alas, for the reward of a not so remarkable wine. Again the wait, the prayers, the morning dew and sun. More work, more time, sweat and callused hands. The next year we tried a grafted grape. We had saved our precious stock of grandpa’s grape prepared the ground and amended the soil. After laying out the orchard, we planted cuttings with our own hands. Fed the young vines with love and creek water and waited for the work of the rain and sun before giving birth to the wine. Our final wine was surrendered by the sun. We captured the prize from our water and our soil. My hands, today, still stained with the color of the grape.
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