About The Wine - Poem by James McLain
A firmer grasp upon the grape, some have.
and mountain water clears what always is.
Many do what mother's never should.
While a father's vineyard grows but heady weeds.
Does a certain type of green or purple grape.
Grow aught but Grace?
Does a woman's golden hand,
when kneeling down is pulling all the weeds.
Thus produce a better seed as seeds do know.
Music makes the leaves turn green,
as leaves ideally grow.
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