You flood the heart with phrases too manifold for mere word
You toll a gong that blazons from yon belfry undeterred
And though you doff coppice and croft of autumn color-schemes
You move your moody wand across the brooding ponds and streams
You nurture nature’s languor with a lonesome lullaby
And spread a somber table for the poet’s hungry sigh
The lay leased to the laden limb, you quiet, leaf by leaf
As amber-russet riot dims on ashen-brindled heath
You scatter summer’s tatters like a scalawag run wild
And strip the tips of fronds that donned the lilt of bloom awhile
You sweep the sleeping landscape with death’s elemental dearth
And draw the eye to where the sky is tucked against the earth
You keen with soulful silence the impact of season’s seal
How one cannot turn back the clock to walk on Bygone’s reel
How, even in November when your wind is a sad song
We ought to dance and remember not to glance back too long
© Janet Martin
For today’s prompt, write a praise poem.
Praise a person; praise a deity; praise your favorite food.
If you ask me, there’s not enough praise to go around in this world;
let’s fix that today–with this poem.
Praise someone or something, even if it’s just your morning coffee.