The King and his Bride

To satisfy his palate,
his mortal whims and desires
even those he only mentions
in a whisper,
she runs to the grove,
picks up the ripest of berries,
tomatoes from the vine.
She has cultivated each seed
as best she could to prevent hardship.
Weeding out that which may
cause the fruit to spoil.
Prepare, she does
a meal upon his platter
befitting of a King
with touches that would spark envy
amongst the noblest of men.
Will he thrill with the sweetness of the berries?
Our savor the richness of the spices?
When meal is served,
he senses not her effort.
Detects no touch of sweetness
nor ripeness in the fruit
from vines that she had pruned.
Then in a royal rage Kings lifts his arm
sending platter to the floor.
She picks up the broken plate.
Tears fall upon the meal
like dash of sprinkled salt.