Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Mr. May or May-cents...


Mr. May is one of those guys we wish
we could grab by his coat-tails
and pinch them in the door so he’ll stay a while longer…





Each treetop wears a chartreuse crown and gown of glorious green
A chattering of yellow rambles through yard, field and fence
Where ev’ry frond is like a prince and ev’ry flow’r a queen
And ev’ry moment, like a shiny come-and-spend-me cents

The birthplace of man’s woe wears wonder’s gladdest grin-and-bear
The air pours heaven’s elixir through skin and bone to hearts
And hope is like a pansy’s pretty smile, from ear to ear
The breeze sighs ‘snow is but a dream’ after winter departs

Earth’s living-room of bird and bloom and grass and garden nooks
Delights the very least of us with life’s most lovely joys
Heaven can wait when May opens its gates of warbling brooks
And all the things we hungered for beneath white-wreathed decoys

May makes us mindful of perennial truth; storms come to pass
And ‘nothing stays the same for long’ oh, look, first flowers fall
Where pageantry of posies pours through Time’s primed hour-glass
And soon the petal-snows of summer strew halls, autumnal  

© Janet Martin



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