As some sun-ripened vineyard-owner, rich
in slow maturing wisdom gained through time,
before that noble rot of trodden grape
yields untold harvest of a well lived life-
and proud that with his daily-tended skills
he'll win a vintage he will never taste -
so I, who seek to daily tend life's yield,
distil a vintage I shall never taste.
Mayhap some pencilled notes from wisdom's root
shall grow new generation's richer fruit.
This is so impressive. I read it three times and admired it more every read.
i always thought wine brought wisdom, too, or perhaps it only SEEMS that way... fantastic work, Michael. Jake
Compact, and You reallly had the rhythem flowing. Loved the symbolism and the ending. Excellent work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent work, Michael. Very well done. Warm regards, CJ