I will not focus on the ink spills from others
But just mine.
Let um pour
Like the grapes from summer vineyards
And sweet fine wines
Crisp, wet, dry, tasteful
Taste. Hold it on your tounge and let it be a rustic
moment.
You taught it to me as
we sat in waiting

My ink will dribble and saturate the well used paper and
stick to your eyes
Like fine wines

stain your taste buds
You taught it to me as we sat
in waiting.

You taught me your love for summer vineyards Reds and Whites
And when the waitings done one day you’ll leave.
And we have waited, you may return but
if for not...
I will love your lovely lusting love for Red and White summer wines and those
Twisting vines
Through my poetry’s lines.