The early morning haze beckons the throng from slumber
The blue hued vines await and loll in readiness to drop
Gravel crunches under the feet of those who will share the toil
Baskets lined up along the rows while gloves pulled on and sharp props at the ready.
Vine virgins hesitate with nervous glances as experience cuts through
Pulling back the branches reveals the juice laden triangle of berries
Snip, drop, catch and throw a system learnt and a rhythm continued
As brows are mopped in the rising sun drinks are proffered.
Baskets are filled, renewed and topped up to be taken across fields
The vines are now empty, been checked by the expert who rebuffs those sun singed grapes
As the final baskets are loaded ,chatter , laughter and relief welcomes the rain
Drops cool and soothe the redness and heat on the sun parched necks.
Their labour much appreciated needs celebrated and thanked
The food and drink spread like a feast for the masses
No morsel left untouched, gratitude understood as the table empties
Promises given for favours, help and sustenance returned.
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