A somewhat satirical extended metaphor
Some of the sweetest berries grow among the sharpest thorns. – Gaelic Proverb
Life is like a berry patch
The thick brambles of challenges
Can seem like impenetrable obstacles
Though the passage requires effort
Take mindful steps
Discover the way forward
Prickly sorrowful thorns abound
While wounds of disappointment
And punctures of deceit
Await the tender flesh
Focus the mind
Be self-aware
Reach into the void
Risk brings rewards
Do not blindly plunder the bounty
Tenderly ply the fingers round the yield
Take gentle measure of the firm plumpness
Tease the freshest fruit from its perch
Reach deeply into the dewy treasury
Extract the joy drupelet by drupelet
And deposit the juicy gems
In your banquet bowl
Earnestly wash the fleshy fruit
Mix with sparkling sugar
Puree the tart-sweet elements
Joyously pour them into the jam pot
Watch the alchemist’s crucible
Stir the transforming brew
When liquid has been transmuted to syrupy jelly
Extinguish the fire
Sneak a taste
Chill
Ever so gently transfer the jam
Betwixt pot and jar
The purple ambrosia flows
Relish the licks of sweetness
Spoon by spoon
Smile by smile
Return to the sweet spot
Before Autumn’s winds
And winter’s white blanket
Urge the happy berries to sleep
C.E.Wheeler 
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