Earth slumbers beneath a blanket of stars
Time’s numbered days dwindle; dawn drains night’s bars
Darkness recedes, heaven's ebb of high tide
Unveiling streets, cities, and countryside
Oh, winter-white wonder, oh, green garb of spring
Oh, blue and gold summer, oh fall Color King
What gossamer law through thy fleet bearing weaves
Bud full of blossom to mud full of leaves
Time is no mere decoration of trees
More than a circuit of sun over seas
Or rose-blush rush toward age-sallow skin
Time runs its bow over earth’s violin
…composing a lifetime, chords of a clock
Toll, a grand metronome, tick-tock, tick-tock
Tugs ever closer that last curtain-fall
Time is a kiss on the cheek of death’s pall
Buckets and mops, mortgages, dinner, crops
Time is much more these mundane non-stops
While light swindles stars and spring kindles sod
Time dwindles in numbered days back to God
© Janet Martin
A person's days are determined;
you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.
Well, I'm off to buckets and mops and dinner-prep non-stops...for now:)
Have a Happy Saturday!
Our Saturday is covered in a fresh sweep of snow.
Last night its big flakes filled the dark as if heaven spilled a jar of cotton-balls!