I just finished a farewell tour of sorts in my flower-garden...
Akin to bittersweet good-bye
Of bidding fond farewell to friends
Is summer’s soft-sorrowing sigh
When flowers fade as blooming ends
The heart-tugs of love’s letting go
Must cater to the call of clocks
As still, in spite of what we know
We are stunned by what Time unlocks
The cricket trills, the blossom spills
The bud that stole our breath is stripped
The resting place of daffodils
Is unrelenting and tight-lipped
And often, smitten to the quick
We realize anew the old
How subtle is the painting-stick
Air-brushing hours from our hold
We walk the garden path slowly
Savor the sweetness on our tongue
For akin to the flowers we
Acknowledge no one can stay young
© Janet Martin
...of course, there is still LOTS left to enjoy; flower-gardens, that is.
Of life, who can know?