The winter vine so sad and bare
hangs there on a wire
Twisted frame once so alive
with bunches for the buyer
Exhausted by a year of struggle
it now appears quite frail
But oh the life that lies within
that twisted vintage jail
The passer-by dismissive looks
at not a hint of green
but patience grants a fruitful yield
of bounty yet unseen
The lips that taste a Cabernet
of fragrant body blend,
might just recall the barren branch
the twisting and the bend
Warm summer breeze through laden bough
will sing of harvest great
While times of secret inner toil
did fruit and wineglass mate
David Kettler
One day working in Arvin I arrived early for an appointment so I pulled over at a vineyard to wait until my appointment time. I sat right next to the bare vines and wondered how they could even be alive. It was winter time of the year and the vines were just twisted bare sticks and I started thinking about this poem. My favorite line is “oh the life that lies within that twisted vintage jail.” I like the thought of all that fruit and life being locked inside the vine just waiting for the right conditions and time to break out into fruitfulness. It seemed a good analogy for times in my life when I have felt the same way.
hangs there on a wire
Twisted frame once so alive
with bunches for the buyer
Exhausted by a year of struggle
it now appears quite frail
But oh the life that lies within
that twisted vintage jail
The passer-by dismissive looks
at not a hint of green
but patience grants a fruitful yield
of bounty yet unseen
The lips that taste a Cabernet
of fragrant body blend,
might just recall the barren branch
the twisting and the bend
Warm summer breeze through laden bough
will sing of harvest great
While times of secret inner toil
did fruit and wineglass mate
David Kettler
One day working in Arvin I arrived early for an appointment so I pulled over at a vineyard to wait until my appointment time. I sat right next to the bare vines and wondered how they could even be alive. It was winter time of the year and the vines were just twisted bare sticks and I started thinking about this poem. My favorite line is “oh the life that lies within that twisted vintage jail.” I like the thought of all that fruit and life being locked inside the vine just waiting for the right conditions and time to break out into fruitfulness. It seemed a good analogy for times in my life when I have felt the same way.
RSS Feed
