With a tender twinge I wish you all a Happy mid-August!
Wind woos in woodland, across August’s main
Sun starts its trek to the west once again
Dream-lands of summer are starting to shrink
Fact scrawls its matter in memory-ink
Causing the mother and poet to pause
Beneath arbors of vibrant leaf-applause
Knowing that nothing can revert the path
That always leads to summer’s aftermath
Quickening pulses with a stirring sense
Of bloom-bowers bending with recompense
Where Beauty, brimming with barley and rye
Soon splays stilled sashes beneath brooding sky
Bidding, nay begging, our bustle to slow
Before our footfalls are muffled by snow
Bidding, nay begging, our bustle to slow
Before our footfalls are muffled by snow
© Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!