Thursday, October 29, 2015

Of Bard Bereft...





We watch while the wind dismantles the world
With leaves and weaves within its revelries
A panoramic emptiness unfurled
In a riot of quietening trees
Where ethereal ellipses rush, then hush
A-bye, a lilied labyrinth of sighs
Melding to centuries that tune the brush
With muffled, inevitable good-byes
And eyes, glued to the screens of here and now
Cannot quite hold the fullness of it all
Resigning Evidence to tears that flow
In mimicking of rain and leaves that fall
Beneath the touch and tripe of troubadours
Who know the pen can never quite descry
The pathos and the beauty that soft-pours
Against the backdrop of bare trees and sky

© Janet Martin

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