“Picking Wineberries”


Little red bunches of beautiful eyes

stare at me boldly, beckon sweetly,

or coyly peek out from under vein leaves,

safe behind rows of such wounding thorns.

Tempting me to dive in and suffer for them,

shirtless and vulnerable I reach forth,

feeling their sharpness graze sweaty skin.

Only through gentle plucking,

submissive searching,

and true respect for their dominion

will they yield, offering their sweetness to me.

Oh, what exquisite care is needed,

But what ripe reward is gained.

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