ya simply can’t walk
into this north western pa country town
and not discover
that it must of started out
with some good ole sugar water.
this all in the wilderness
maple runnin in the veins,
can leave just the right man
livin in the snow belt
wantin a little run off
off the hills,
cause these arteries
are like pipelines
pumpin like crazy
out of this slumber,
wantin to be
in her everyday thaw
so subtly sweet
that it leaves me
wantin her lovely,
more than any overnight
about any kind of berrie
can be picked easily in the field,
can’t compare to her soft spoken
doesn’t have to be noticed,
fall into your lap just like that.
cause like syrup
that sticks to a spoon,
it runs off slowly
drippin the kind of drops
with her eyes subtly sweet,
leavin this old winter cabin blues
all about her maple lovin sugar makin
in all that sugar spoonin
gettin it like it
was meant from her
all the time countryside wide
smilin in curls inside the sugar shack.
poetics~cool out of the rafters 
I really like how you build on the image of the maple tree. The sweetness oozes like maple sap throughout the poem.
thanx again….pretty simple one….actually gathered sap…so ya know.