The fruits hang low, a tantalizing tease –
sweet dreams that grow on blossom’s tender vines,
and flirt a tempting envy in the breeze
to drip its suckled breast with precious wines.
She sweeps with careful pleasure through the leaves
to harvest what was tender for the day;
a labor loved beneath the arbor eaves
as sunlight sprinkles hope within their sway.
It is inside this envy that I learn
the secrets that a patient mind should grasp;
the obvious is not what you should yearn,
but truths that lie unseen within the task.
So often what desire cannot reach
Is left for lost posterity to teach.
(Envy can be a good thing if we are inspired to be better,
the cherished harvest of the vine is not only the grape.)
Copyright © craig cornish | Year Posted 2018