Monday, December 2, 2013

December





Country brook meanders; metallic cobalt streamer
Across meadow bereft of bracken, clover-bloom and dreamer
Blue-eyed autumn tarried with its pockets full of laughter
But Time with ease has emptied them into the ever-after

The gown of emerald velvet is trampled, tattered, forlorn
The hill wears quilted patchwork trimmed with frayed, forgotten corn
And where the breezes rolled, cajoled in summer’s dappled surf
The elements are somber as they tromp earth’s frozen turf

We shift from fall-fond passion, cinnabar and ginger wild  
For words like short-bread, holly, ring those bells and Christmas-child
And where the bronze leaf drifted garnishing each windowsill
It seems someone has sifted silver-song on ridge and rill

Still, country brook meanders in the color of the cloud
Before a stricken grandeur stills its shimmer in a shroud
And where the summer-shadow lingered long into the dusk
The afternoon is pushed and garnered by winds hurried, brusque

December rolls a carpet of farewell out to the brink
Of daylight gently dying on a skyline salmon-pink
December, in its debut is an argent lullaby
And even in its hello we can almost hear good-bye

© Janet Martin


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