Summer Grapes

In the summer the vines are
Pregnant with fruit weighing on
Branches, swollen, delightful,
Fragrantly sweet.

Your lustful aroma penetrates
My defenses. Magnificent golden
haired temptress, your kiss
Is sweeter than ripened
Burgundy grapes.

Of all the willing clusters,
I picked you. Of all the
Fair maidens, it’s your love
That’s more intoxicating than
The best of the
Preeminent wines.