Wednesday, May 11, 2016


Time overruns our pockets with portions equal, alike
A moment-metered measure to spend in a place called Life
Thus, how we choose to use the coin of tick by tock alloy
Will multiply our happiness or diminish our joy

We all are moment-merchants, spenders of time’s rendering
And I have seen a rich man poor and a pauper-like king
Lack of cold gold cannot withhold what we are looking for
Held in the meld of moments; who could ask Time’s flask for more?

Unstoppered are the coffers from whence treasure-rivers run
A blue-flung sky above us and beneath our feet, strewn sun
An hour, lent to wander bowers bent with bloom and breeze
Where moment-merchants revel in disheveled luxuries

The hour is upon us; soon its flower falls away
Soft-scattered to a soldered fell that we call Yesterday
Still, lo and behold, see the gold unfolding from yon store
To replenish the pockets of moment-merchants once more

© Janet Martin

...take a moment and give a listen to a good tune;-)

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