You wait there, luscious, ripe, and tantalise
High out of reach, the king of all the crop
All I can do is look, feast upon you with my eyes
Yet as I turn to leave, again I have to stop

 

For you would be the prize above all to gain
If I can just reach up a little higher
Ignoring bramble scratches and nettle sting pain
For you, I would impale me on barbed wire

So I make my plans, pondering the best way
Duck and weave, or simply plough right through

Determined that I will reach you, come what may

Making myself tall, stretching arms out long
So near, one last effort, and I win my prize
O�?delectable blackberry, I was not wrong