Young Wine

Young  wine

Winds  bending  limbs

Upending  and back  around  again

Sinful  turns  resting  upon  curls

She  is  the  courtesy,  like  water  to  trees

Uncontested,  her  pageants  affirm  attrition

Too  young  to  stalk,  yet  needing  supervision

Causing  forests  to  divide  equatorially

Just  2b  near  her  promised fruitful  center

To  enter  such  a  garden,  is  to  wait  for  admission

Skillfully  nurturing  her  hidden  orchids  in  good  living

Together  with  her  make  up,   atmospheric  necessity

Secretly  honing   to  flourish  in  such  pansophic  hemispheres

Cheers   are  heard  past  harvested  whispers,  adoring

Uprooting  time,  her  time  suspends  feloniously,  in  waiting

Natural  growth  is  but  another  derived  form  of  entertainment

Patience  is  needed  if  ever  to  pluck  and  prod  such   likeness

Pictured  as  a  masterpiece  on  mantle  shelves,  admiring

Blossoming  spurts  to  further  culture  in  worldly  stature

Thorns  on  display   promises  2b  rough,  yet  still  soft  to  touch

Until  the  right  wind  blows,  increasing   her  metaphorical  elixir

2b  sniffed,  swirled  and  timidly  tasted,  savoring  such  a  mature  mating

Unabridged potency,   converting  many  a  hard  limbs  to  clinging  vines

Appeasing  grace  in   such  anointing  find,  hoping  to  nurture   worthy  confines