Motionless, without vision,
the vineyard of loves passion
dehydrated in drought season,
dwindling in neglect of care,
slumped,
ravaged in time,
slumbers, shallow of breath; dying.

Quieted like out of fashion shoes
boxed and left in an attic.

Rains pass,
Summers languish,
Autumn and Spring flash twigs
of hope as the view finder of life
slides on by.

Fading romantic passion wrapped
in fretting sadness, ponders in
thoughts of ever again knowing
the warmth of love, the tickling
affection awakening to life, like
a bee visiting peach blossoms,
stimulating,
rising on a bubble of delight,
bearing grapes bursting juices
intoxicating the wine of
loves sweet bliss.

Bringing with it the sound of
waterfalls rushing the ear canals,
smells of fresh baked bread coaxing
expectant arousal, eager tongues
licking liquid honey from soft
milk loaves in billowing clouds
of sweetness.

Knowing the thrill again seems
a lost gamble, its chance taken by
an ocean of time caught in a
wrinkled high buttoned garment of
facial value and virtue.
Winds of teasing desire buffeting
against the opened parasol of age,
as dandelions drop petals in a
“love, love me not” game.

Passion hides in shadowed embers,
stems of leaves loosen their grip
in remembered years of
past seasons showers.

7/2001

09/27/2001

Posted on 09/27/2001
Copyright © 2025 Audrey M Scott