Thursday, October 25, 2012

When My Joy-cup Was Full





…and so you slip from me
Over an ethereal brink
I place your memory
In thoughts of stilted ink

The hour where we laughed
And held each others smile
Has hastened down a misty path
Where echoes tune its mile

The folds of history
Shimmer with smiles and tears
Preserved where none can see
The aftermath of years

Yet, as I sense the power
Of Time’s keen moment-pull
I thank God for the hour
When my joy-cup was full

© Janet Martin

Today was a great day of family as my mom and her daughters (us sisters) enjoyed a day of being 'tourists' in our local town of St. Jacobs, Ontario, Canada. The above pictures are glimpses of this town as it 'used to be'. An artist is 'rebuilding the town' .

2 comments:

  1. This poem speaks to me of contentment. How often do we take such special moments for granted.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank-you:) It indeed is contentment. I know far too often I do take it for granted.

    Thank-you for your visit and thoughts~

    ReplyDelete

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