Friday, December 11, 2015

Mad With Joy

Inspired by Sasha's post here

Write then,
Go; mad with joy of newborn day,
Or pup
Of lithesome grin of lad,
Of fresh-mown hay
Drink up
This cup where its air runs, rife
With un-penned poetry
And life is far too small to bear
In silent agony

So, write then
Mad with bliss, let life kiss you full
On the lips
Ere it slips to oblivion
Gossamer, an
Of moment over moment, lost
To past’s eternity
Of sad joy never madly snared
And bared in Poetry

© Janet Martin


Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed by the visit!