Tuesday, November 30, 2010

It Is Done...........


Across time’s vast and rolling surge
I hear a song; a mournful dirge
Like a lonesome tolling knell
Farewell, ye by-gone year, farewell
Hear its low and solemn tone
It is done, it is done

Clasp its sonnet to your breast
As its trembling cadence rests
Deep within the darkened urn
Where good and ill cannot return
Its only trace the seed it’s sown
It is done, it is done

I hear a tremor on the breeze
It lingers in the barren trees
Slipping through my fingers, gone
The notes that tune tomorrow’s song
Hear the echo, distant moan
It is done, it is done

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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