Love's Vintage

She was ripe grapes in August

with a body rich and robust.

Her flavor glowing

juices flowing

in the press

of my caress.

With taster's care

I savored her fair

and lively bouquet,

lighter than Tokay.

Lips tempting as sherry

bade me tarry.

But in my drunkard greed

I drained her selfless need

to enhance all things living

and left her empty of further giving.

Now like a derelict who begs

alms for the bitterest dregs,

I go forever thirsting

and dream of ripe grapes bursting.