Thursday, November 25, 2010

Clenched Dream....


The landscape wears a close-shorn shroud
For now the fields of summer’s green
Lay barren ‘neath an iron cloud
Where once the toil of man was seen
And cornfield, stripped of cob and husk
Lies tight-lipped in the moody dusk
Where now the gale unhindered sweeps
From portals pale to silent deeps

Fair, lush, the meadows of July
Where lark and daisy reigned supreme
But now beneath a leaden sky
We view its terrace like a dream
The echo of a sun-kissed tune
Drifts soft and low across the dune
Wild, the wind that chills the turf
The waves of June, a muted surf

No more the song of trembling leaf
To grace the hour of twilight’s brim
The sigh becomes a moan of grief
As low-light keys the shadow dim
Beneath the half-moon, cobalt sky
November croons her lullaby
We hear it; as we stoke the fire
A song of clenched dream and desire

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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