Saturday, August 26, 2017

Of Dew And Dust...









We are not quite as carefree as we were in days gone by
And Something makes us linger longer where the petals lie
Where hour upon hour that we pour our lives into
Like flower-gardens, bloom then fade; a fugitive ado

Morality, legality, frugality, oh my
Are quite enough, my love, both heart and hand to occupy
We sense a Requisition, dense with dew and harvest dust
And realize Submission is an Elemental Must

Time’s law of live-laugh-love is rife with life’s vexatious Durst
Its surrender-grief-death, unequivocal as the first
Summer slips through our learning reach with granted gifts galore
While yearning fingertips and lips beseech, acquiesce, implore

Ah, we have not lived long enough to know what lies ahead
But oh, we know enough to know our tears are not all shed
Yet love, oh, splendid love still fills the flagging frame with hope
Where Summer weans dew-dusty sheen from sun and shadow slope

The air is sweet with the depleting ways of bloom and bud
The green-grass chair where we put up our feet will soon be mud
And all the things we planned to do in summer’s shining day
Will, like the ilk of dust and dew, shimmer then fade away

Ah darling, oh, my darling we are not as carefree now
As when we stood on spring’s threshold and Zephyrs kissed our brow
And dreams, like starry streams flowed slow beneath the willow limb  
Where summer seemed quite long enough to condone wish and whim

© Janet Martin

What a week...
phone calls in the middle of the night
most serious conversation in the middle of the night(please pray?)
(there is such a fine line between betraying confidence and 'bearing one another's burdens')
waiting for jars to be done steaming in the middle of the night
I begin, in spite of the love of it, to feel 'Summer' weary

2 comments:

  1. Thank you for this. It really took me back. Lord. thank You for those times.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.