Monday, September 16, 2013

Of Gathered Bittersweet

They slip from our embrace
And we can never see
That final, phantom resting place
Of never-more-will-be

Falling like formless leaves
To scatter at our feet
We run thought’s whisper over sheaves
Of gathered bitter-sweet

Yet still Time’s seasons course
In reckoning and chance
The heart cannot dissuade its force
Compelling us to dance

Hope does not sleep in tombs
But spills in gifted thread
Finger and thought cannot exhume
Spent glory or regret

 The filigree of past
 And imminence compete
Falling through touch to rest at last
In gathered bitter-sweet

© Janet Martin

We reach, touch, but can never keep the essence of a moment~


  1. Hi, it's that time of year, isn't it?
    Hope babysitting is getting off to a rocking start:)!

  2. It's been a good day so far...he's standing on his tip-toes beside me and grinning:) so cute!


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