Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Mid-night Merlot





Now daylight climbs those far-off stairs leading to prostrate past
The whistling lamplighter of stars tends to his twilight task
Now stammering and clamoring and all its kindred-mates
Muffle, caught in the shuffle of moon-beams on silver slates

Now barefoot boys are stripped of noise; silk slumber-streams unfurl
While dragons holed in horror-haunts their phantom terrors hurl
And all the colors of the world are black and charcoal-gray
Where autumn is a martinet of orange-gold-red by day

The baron is a beggar and the poet is a lord
Word-wisps are frigates set adrift where dark of dark is poured
And even though we close our eyes the charter of a thought
Is never stilled or held at bay by what sight sees as naught

Drink deep; vintage of velvet froth is pungent as it drips
Hard, hard upon the heart of hearts and soft upon the lips
Nothing of life is salvaged save the flowers that we toss
Into life's vat of memories; love’s soul-sweet albatross

© Janet Martin

Summer is never really over because...

...change the season in your veins by raising glass to lip and tilting summer in.
Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury

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