Within a garden grew a vine, twisted tightly
coiled with time
Until the fruit, ambrosia wine, spilled in cups, on tables fine.
Hence the land, now brimming o'er,
thirst was quenched,
They cried, "No more!"
As was its nature,
Oceans poured, filling each and every shore.
Boats were launched,
Some men swore,
Backs bent hard above the oars.
The cool mist rose above the land,
And women clasped their wee ones hands.
Lips mouthed words, their prayers hushed,
The waters came, a mighty rush.
Sandbags on the banks were flanked,
Sirens wailed as vessels sank.
This sea of all we ever need
Has caused a bane more harrowing than any war or crisis new,
One man threw it, then the next, until
one fruit
was all
that
was
left.
Janelle Gregory
1 My son Ben's art filtered with my photograph
2 Ben's art using Deep Dream Generator & PenUp app for Galaxy 8
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