Grapes of Wrath
I always wanted to be
Lemonade
Sweet, simple, citrus
Dainty and fresh
Summer zest
But I’m afraid
Life refused to let me be
Lemonade
Instead, I aged
Bloomed, blossomed forth
Borne of the grapes of wrath
Ripened and stewed
I brewed, within
Simmered under the surface
Of my skin
Bottled the rage up
And the anger
And the passion
And the lust
I was not born
To slake a thirst
-but to inspire it
Not comfort, but if you want
Addiction
I can provide it
To enrapture and tantalize
Hypnotize
Again, and again
I am a fine wine, my friend
©CM
15.01.2014
CALLIOPE'S LYRE 
you’d think it’s one of the Joads speaking 🙂 … reminded me of Steinbeck… very nice
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Heheheh thank you. :p
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Maybe just a LIL different than the Joads…
I loved this, as a wine affecianado
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D’aw, I aficionado you too! :p ❤
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Lol
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Oh yeah cookie, you are the fine wine :))
Blessings,
-Naima
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Nice.
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Thank you. 🙂
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…”I was not born to slake a thirst, but to inspire it”…god that line!
Okay…now write “A poem of slaking”…yeah?
YES
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Hahah I’ve written plenty of them before. I’ll link you to one.. And might even write one more. :p
Cause you asked. 😉
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Thanks! I was imagining when you find your baby, or your baby finds you…as I have been so blessed to find and have been found…and the inspirings, and the slakings…and the worst that happens after in long years is the growing and unpeeling of layers of familiarity, contempt, and fondness amplified in the process.
❤
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That’s a lot to live through, and a lot to love through. ❤
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yes it is…with the right one the pain is sooo worth the gain. but I can see how the wrong one? brrrrr
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Definitely. The right one makes everything worth it. The wrong one, nothing, lol.
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A fine wine it is then.
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