Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Limbo-land...




I love-love this in-between-seasons season!

The land is like a hand outstretched and waiting for its prize
Where tawny tints and honeyed glints arouse the dreamer’s sighs
The air is rife with scents of life beneath earth’s deadened scrim
Where hope sails from its harbor and ignites the farmer’s hymn

The sky is like a blue-flung paradise that none can touch
The breeze like melodies that hint at rose-gardens and such
The park is like a golden palace perched on middle-day
The yard, a postcard filled with chatter of children at play

The housewife is a-singing and a-flinging windows wide
Her mops and brooms humming a tune of simple, homespun pride
The woodland, like a chapel where the canticle of lark
Stirs from the rustiest of throats a song straight from the heart

The storehouse, overflowing with white-feather fluff and stars
 Spills rain-song from its rafters and tips laughter from its jars
Where earth is like a table scrubbed clean of last-summer’s mess
And readied for a banquet of flower-draped happiness 

The Thing that none can barter with wrings gold from gray ho-hum
It holds rebirth in limbo twixt what was and is to come
The land is like a hand outstretched and eager for the nod
That wakes the seed that takes its lead from the whisper of God

© Janet Martin



3 comments:

  1. A wonderful journey of acceptance.

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  2. I like the first line of this poem the best. I was wondering what it is about this time of year that you love so much. Is it the hope? The anticipation? If so, that first line describes it perfectly.

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    Replies
    1. I love the clean canvas and the monochromatic vista!...and yes, the anticipation.

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