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.