Sonnet - 45 Poem by Xavier Mandreza

When Aesop's Grapes bled the Fox's Desire
Already Sore from his High-Sprinting Heel
With his Submission though Doused with Fire
Invest your Insurance of Long-Fingered Feel
Though Whining he Barks its Substance Sour
Crimps on his Lungs for that Long-Waited Why
Which Tempters do Praise beyond his Hour
Telling him Softly his Best Time to Fly
And Fly he did though Weighted with your News
Still Begging that Sour would Mix into Sweet
As other Millions of Each with their Views
Compound each History prayed to Repeat.
That Illusions bare; Truth Stand and Un-fold
So as much one's Prince be Yearning to Hold.