Friday, August 28, 2015

Soft, a Summer of Moments Slips...





Soft, a summer of moments slips to the Empire of Past
No flower has the power to grip petals ever fast
Or usurp the authority that aggravates a fool
…all must succumb to the hierarchy of a higher rule

Impassioned views of Youth meets Truth; a brick upon the air
Then we grow old, no longer bold enough to double-dare
Or wrench fare from the gentle Hand from whence all blessing flows
For we have come to recognize the disguise of the rose

All that we ask is for a task that is noble and pure
All that we need is less of greed and more of what endures
The gravity of Brevity teaches us to revere
The bloom we hold before it folds its gold in russet tear

Soft, a summer of moments flows toward the close of day
Soft, like the climax of a rose it gently fades away
No flower finds the power to preserve its verve of prime
No hour finds a bower to escape the Hand of Time

Then God, I pray that we may not wrestle with The Ordained
Yet wring from it the full of it in fervor unrestrained
And take what is and cherish it with thankful zeal because
Soft, a summer of moments becomes everything that was


© Janet Martin

Reveling in the Bloom Of It these days...

Later we'll stroll through the Zinnias and marigolds, shall we?:)
Happy God-granted Friday!

2 comments:

  1. So beautiful thoughts, if the whole world understand these then there will be no tussle.

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    Replies
    1. yes...so much easier to write or read than to remember! I esp. speak of myself:) but by the grace of God go I.

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