Moments amass; too oft we pass up opportunities
Leading to grass freeways and skies as wide as open seas
Edict of toil and soil foil plans fashioned by wanderlust
We grapple with life while wild apple trees spill, dust to
dust
Time after time we climb the lower limbs of good intention
While bloom-bells chime, a pantomime of wealth and intervention
Time’s puddle that we muddle through is but a dash, a splash
A prelude to these wars subdued where good and evil clash
This spurt of dirt and hurt offers a longer, slower road
Where those less hurried trundle-tromp to destiny’s abode
The call to grassland freeways beneath blue, wide-open sky
Is autumn’s invitation; everybody should reply
Sometimes I wonder how much happier this world would be
If every gate would open to a garden and a tree
And shops would close up early because Autumn's matriarch
Spread every meadow like a quilt for picnics in its park
© Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!