E’en the birds cannot resist its fruit.
As plump bobbles dangle in midair.
A sight to know – taste on a tongue.
To linger o’er the lips with a nibble.
Juice to spill as blood drains of life.
Your ruddy smile cast by lost hope.
Forcibly gaining ne’er with-staining.
The tendency to control oft central.
Throngs to neutralize by their DNA.
Liquid in a cup; flavor of new order.