Written for a Amanda Thomas-Crain


Written for Whyte Horse Winery
Surrendered to the rich tilled earth

Thirst quenched by God’s rain

Tiny though my little hulled soul

This seed will make a name
Spring, bud, flower and bloom

My fruit is bared for you

And in my very being you’ll find

Desire within the womb
Harsh it seems to temper this

My tender hearted breast

But, oh how you make me sing

Alas the final press
My blood’s finale all and all

To thee my seasons pare

In this the final stand I rest

Scarlet libation’s heir

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