Always Half-kissed...

What can we say that has never been said?

Early the morning creeps out of its bed

Easing through acres of high sky-blue mead

Before its slips to the river

Kissing Time’s silver with shivers of blush

Ever it fades into precious ‘what was’

Where none can plunder its Why and Because

Or pluck one plume from its quiver

What can we do that has never been done?

Nothing is new under day’s dauntless sun

Pirate and poet, proprietor one

Led by the law of an hour

Season-stoked spectrum of age-old distress

We stumble over its heaped happiness

Searching for something we cannot access

Save in the grave of a flower

What can we think that has never been thought?

Over and over the hour is taught

By the behavior of earth’s sundry lot

As we persist to discover

Time cuts a trail over trampled bygone

While we insist to repeat right and wrong

Always half-kissed by the words of a song

God prints on petals of clover

© Janet Martin

Soon summer's Saturday silvers shorelines somewhere far way...

Make it a nice sweet slice of almost-yesterday

All things are wearisome; Man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, Nor is the ear filled with hearing. That which has been is that which will be, And that which has been done is that which will be done. So there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one might say, "See this, it is new "? Already it has existed for ages...Ecc. 1:8-10