Late August

... in a sunny spell down in brightest part of the dell we spot black clusters at full swell. Ready to pick but there's a catch. We must break through a thorny patch, for we can't just reach out and snatch. We start to learn rules of the game that teach us there is blood and pain when precious fruit we come to claim. To make us pay for berries black nature's weaponry gives us flack. Whiplashing thorns our flesh attack. Accepting that the price is blood we persevere and soon make good, down in that dell of August wood.