Monday, July 6, 2015

Way To Live





Snared sea-song spills to green-sheen hills where reaching corn-rows blow
And chamomile gilds ditches like drained vials of early snow
Queen Ann’s Lace graces fence-lines, streams in lavish white-frothed swoon
That rushes through lush underbrush and hush of summer-noon

The doorway to For-nevermore is ethereal, yet rife
With flower-gardens; metaphors of ‘what is a man’s life?’
The wind lolls, low and slowly in a languid serenade
Across wheat fields a-ripple like a golden-stippled lake

Those days that long we longed for are unchained; we are half-scared
To run too fast or walk too slow on this that none have snared
Of lupine-lay and fresh-mown hay and clover-mead; bare feet
Skimming the sluggish creek that loiters 'mongst pale meadow-sweet

The clock opens the locks that kept a world of dreams on hold
Anticipation yields its fruit in zinnia, marigold
And lest we miss the best that life and summer have to give
We vow to find a slower, sweeter, kinder way to live

© Janet Martin





2 comments:

  1. I wish I could pen a comment that would make you feel as if it should be sung to American the Beautiful, but I don't have the talent for that that you do in your lovely poem.

    I do constantly vow to find your "slower, sweeter, kinder way to live"--and then I let life itself get too busy for me to remember!

    "Of lupine-lay and fresh-mown hay" -- magical, all of it is.

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  2. Dewena, you are sweet and kind...and as for the busyness; isn't it nice that life sometimes gets so busy that we know we're still needed?;-)

    Thank-you so much for your visit and kind words!

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Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.