Sour Grapes

Savoring her sweetness,
The very nectar taken from her vine,
Can make me giddy with delight
As I sip tasty droplets of her wine.
Never wanting to take more
Than she may yield up willfully
Lest her taste be bitter from
The sin of immaturity.
Waiting oh, so patiently for
Sunlight's rain to fill her heart
With sweet seductive fullness
That her shapes and colorings impart.
Longing for her gentle touch
Upon my shoulder, on my nape,
Instilling wide emotions that
My flustered heart cannot escape.
But she has chosen someone else
And I'm alone at close of day.
So, I console myself that she
Was likely sour anyway.

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