Sunday, September 25, 2016

Where The Bough Surrenders





It is universal; Grief
Where the bough that braves The Leaf
Succumbs to a Dauntless Chief
Suave, its laws of sorrow
Ah, the will and want of us
Cannot usurp It because
IS, is always hinged to was
…today to tomorrow

Panhandlers of tick and tock
We are beggars of a clock
Doling bowls of sky and rock
Bloom-strewn walks and stubble
Triumph is a short-lived fete
This world has no easy-street
Profit wars with loss, defeat,
Fortune wars with trouble

To the ways that laugh then mourn
That which offers no return
For swift season-splendors
Farewell finds new footholds, oh,
Holding turns to letting go
Leaves fall like gold-russet snow
Where the bough surrenders

© Janet Martin

3 comments:

  1. Beautiful words and gorgeous photo♥

    summerdaisycottage.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thank-you:) not quite an island shot but still pretty, right?

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  2. Lovley mixed feelings but thats life!

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Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.