by Peter Williams

Created on: January 30, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

Grapes and Memories

Memories, full and ripe
fall to me from the maturing vine,
The gentle touch of a lost lovers' face,
her forgotton name, a mirror left behind
and they fall

Oh each full and perfect in their taste
the sweetness of the first touch,
the texture of the night we stood
and watched the new year in

and here, oh yes the tart of quarrels long forgot,
the tiny battles won and lost
and here, to all my shame
the dark dried fruit when love has finally gone

I sit alone and pick the fruit
whether full round or half formed and green
Each brings to me in moments quiet
the many tastes of lifes' time gone past

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