Sour Wine
The virgin dolly bird sings in her vineyard
and the virtuoso listen her arrogant melody
at his cottage window merrily.
The old rusty fence isn't a barrier it seems
if she pass a gentle glance?
The bystander in his fantasy
counting the stars in the mysterious sky.
Wine turned to vinegar
and the lonesome soul still a bachelor.
To my poet friend Dave.Tanguay
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Added by Poetry Lover
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