'It's a very nice day', remarked little Luke yesterday,
with his back turned to the gray-drippy outdoors and his eyes pre-tasting the colorful fruit treat he was mixing...
We've had gray-on-gray day-after-day for more mornings than any of us would choose
but we don't decide the color of dawn's dress...
and though at first glance each gray day may seem like a carbon-copy of the previous we know no two are alike in spite of its costume!
That gold gong in yon belfry is muffled by gray on gray
Wall-to-wall tulle keeps the full sweep of countryside at bay
Those ‘pastures green’ we dream of wallow in a world of mud
Earth’s tree-lines skimmed with breathy brume and winter’s bastioned bud
Gladness is like a song we sing in spite of what is not
The sadness-es deemed for this day will spill hope’s care-filled lot
Life’s sit-and-spin, its grit-and-grin, its what-must-be-will-be
Flings wide the door of every morn to opportunity
Daybreak is like a lake, lack-luster; lost in in its own fray
Its landscape lies beneath a cape of shapeless, weightless gray
We wake and sleep, weep, laugh and leap across its brief commune
And make the best it, oh yes, in spite of its costume
© Janet Martin
How are you making Best today?!
I think I'll kitchen putter with some cleaning-cooking-baking!
I've NEVER heard any complaints yet when I choose this Saturday-activity😀