Thursday, November 28, 2024

Vintage Of Her Heart

Vintage Of Her Heart
© Surazeus
2024 11 28

Barefoot in white lace gown of morning light, 
she sits among rain-wet vines on the hillside 
and sings ethereal melody of love 
that makes the whole vineyard tremble awake 
in swirling ululations of pure joy 
that fills each grape with liquid of the stars. 

While birds in trees chirp moon-sweet melodies, 
she crawls among long curling vines of grapes, 
asking each one how it feels, then she turns 
at shimmer of hope to see wavering ghost 
of Bacchus dancing with slow graceful care, 
hands caressing each vine to bless its soul. 

The owl with eyes from children who died young, 
that weeps in glass cathedral on the moon, 
scatters raindrops on hills where bones of gods 
nourish roots of grape vines with earnest hope 
that flows up branches writhing with fierce angst 
to spread angelic wings in broad green leaves. 

Silver mist floats swirling over lush hills, 
rainbow eyes sparkling with pleasant delight 
as wet lips kiss each plump grape on its vine 
that rings soft high-toned bell of tingling faith 
when sunbeams stream ninety-one million miles 
to weave immortal light in pungent juice. 

Eyes gleaming green as hills of curling vines, 
Bacchus prances with herd of hopping goats, 
and breathes ethereal melody of joy 
through pan pipes wailing eerie in hot wind, 
while Ariadne lies spread-eagled on the slope, 
arms open to embrace his swirling soul. 

Breasts rising round as hills of webbing vines, 
Ariadne swells huge as broad river vales, 
skin bristling with grape vines that spiral high 
to shroud our spinning globe in web of souls 
which undulate through matrix of our minds 
when we drink spirit of love in her wine. 

Slouched over wood table in cellar room, 
lit by candles flickering in curious gloom, 
she mixes wine in bottles of desire 
to test restructured flavor of sunlight 
till she tastes ancient spirit of the hills 
brewed in time-bubbling vintage of her heart. 

Striding among grape vines on sunlit slopes, 
dressed in wolf-fur cloak of River-Cave Girl, 
Ariadne spreads angelic wings of joy 
and calls to Rapunzel in tower of stone 
who throws books out the window of despair 
which transform into Bacchus dancing wild. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus tastes wine Ariadne brews and feels ancient spirit of the Earth surge through his body with passionate joy for life.

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