the cloud on the grapes

fighting temptation

I love the velvety cloud on the grapes, don't you?
How they smudge blue,
How they record your fingerprint
How they surprise you too.

Straight from the branch
A tiny click at the stem
You open your mouth
Your tongue greedily dreams of the burst,
The sweet generous squish of a gesture on the palette
The mind peaks at the assumption of pleasure.
As eyes sparkle in the suspense
Your jaw closes gently, utterly loyal to its coquettish smile.
That’s before it knows,
As the farmer could have told you
If you had gone to the trouble 
To ask,
That these grapes are not ripe at all!
Harmless acid snags on heart strings,
Your eyes dart to a crease in shock, your lips contort
As sour grapes punish your presumptuous smile.
These treasures should be left alone.
They are out of bounds for now
They are not ready for your caress,
For your mouth,
They are not ready for kisses
They weren’t even flirting with you
They can’t help being born beautiful
Looking tempting everyday of their lives.
Us and our greedy eyes!
The power is unmistakably theirs
To decide
When they are ready to crown the table 

We must all wait 
In that, we are equal.
Some of us might have a flash car
A mansion
A wisteria 
That dresses up the valley in fine linen
But we are all humbled
Waiting for the same vine to grow,
To mature,
To turn to sugar,
To lavish our fluted glass
With remarkably
Upwardly 
Mobile 
Skinny bubbles of trouble
That come up for air
That shimmy in the sun,
When they are second to none,
Second to no one, 

waiting for wine @naturetorque