Monday, January 5, 2015

At The Mercy of You, My Year

Click on images to enlarge...



This morning as I stood at the fence to greet you I pondered our friendship; how often I've welcomed you with open arms, then turned and you were gone...

For years she’s seen you climb the fence
To cross the yard then wave good-bye
Yes, you were her first real romance
You taught her how to laugh and cry
But always when you disappear
Then you are nothing but A Year

Once upon her fair, girlish dreams
And fantasies foreign to truth
You tugged morning to dusk-hushed streams
And hugged the girl that lost her youth
As motherhood deployed love’s tear
And still simply, she calls you Year

Ah, fairest of them all art thou
Yet, without face or voice or form
Morning and noon and evening, how
Full Want of you ignites a storm
For all she has and holds, my dear
Is but the offspring of thee, Year

Cool Casanova, troubadour
Then will she every truly know?
What your utter intentions are
For she is at your mercy, so
Please, be a darling, be a dear
And be a kind and gentle Year

© Janet Martin

A chuckle courtesy of Victoria from the Peanuts book we gave her for Christmas;





No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.