Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Troubadour






From the fount of summer morning
From the inkwell of a flow’r
From the mountain and the meadow
And the sun and shadow bow’r
From the woodland and the moorland
And the never-land of dreams
From the lofty heights of triumph
And the lowly sorrow streams
From the hurt and dirt of living
From song and dance of youth
From the freedom of forgiving
And the changeless ways of truth
from the true-blueness of heavens
From the wellspring of a thought
From the laughter of a loved one
And the chatter of a tot
From the wander-ways of travel
And the fonder stays of home
Splays the Will that holds time’s gavel
And the quill that holds its poem

© Janet Martin

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