Thursday, August 20, 2015

Anticipation's Aftermath



I can’t get over how every week just flies by…

Anticipation spills its lore like flowers spilling bloom
A sky-wide door opens and shuts each summer afternoon
And soon, like pictures in a locket, hearts expand their hold
Grappling where summer unravels Her pockets of silk-gold

Now Trouble finds a foothold, love, now laughter finds our lips
Now Time finds ways of stunning us in spite of her old tricks
And though there is nothing new under heaven we are awed
By haste of dawn to dusk and seed to husk in living’s laud

Chicory, Queen Ann’s Lace and goldenrod strip August bare
As dust stirred by the phantom feet of moments hovers where
The holy bittersweet of it drains into Bygone’s deep
And fists, once full of flowers find a wilted sprig to keep

© Janet Martin


I am constantly dead-heading,
Dumping jars of wilted blooms
To make room for fresh bouquets….
A little like life;
as one season fades
we fill thought-jars
with fresh bouquets
only to turn
and see the husk of anticipation
scattered in its wake…

3 comments:

  1. I'll try to remember one of your thoughts here, we do have to deadhead and empty the vases of their faded flowers to make room for the next. Even summer for winter.

    Your picture, the whole arrangement of pieces, is superb!

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    Replies
    1. thank-you Dewena. I hope I can keep taking my own advice....already it feels like fall here today and I'm still trying to forget how long last winter was!!

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  2. Thumbs up for your writing. A great poem to read. Love to read them. :)

    That comic piece is awesome :D

    Even I also write poems. Kindly check them on https://quickbloggermind.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete

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