Saturday, August 30, 2014

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


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