Monday, November 8, 2010


I miss it already and it is hardly gone
I miss the music-laden dawn
Melting 'cross a dew-drenched lawn
Unlike this silent shroud
As from every tree and rill
Nature's golden song would spill
Over every field and hill
Before this austere cloud

I miss the murmur of the breeze
The laughter of the willow trees
As the taunting zephyrs tease
Her green and golden tresses
Oh, I miss the fern-lined bower
And the sudden summer shower
I miss each smiling, sunny flower
In all their pretty dresses

They tell me that the summer's gone
But within me it lives on
I can see so far beyond
The brown hills of November
To the music of the sea
Flowing 'cross this frosty lea
In a sun-kissed melody
As softly I remember

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!