Vineyards Of Verse Poem by Amera Andersen

Let written verse allow thy inner soul
To slip inside the comfort of thy mind.
Decant such worldly ambit of control
And leave its empty cup of life behind.
I gift to thee the glass of recompense
And press it closely to thy longing lips.
Absorb its essence as it circumvents
Impurities with liquid flowing scripts.
When poetry is harvest from the vine,
The poets words are chosen to distill,
The finest grapes of metaphoric wine,
To warm thy heart abating carnal chill.
Intoxicate thy mind with flowing verse
And let its treasures fill thy spirits’ purse.