Reluctant Realizations

Like warm silk, she passes by
I sense a sympathetic smile
But she will not meet my eye
For she knows it will be awhile
Before she reaches out her hand
And asks me, shall we dance
For she like I, is not in command
But at the mercy of time and chance

Her long flowing tresses have been shorn
Her vibrant eye is dull
And in her sigh a chill is born
For we can feel the pull
Of hours in waiting; waiting to shed
Sad reluctant tears
On a mournful autumn bed
As she softly disappears

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Janet Martin

The warm somber haze
Of sweet August days
Fills me with reluctant realization
Over the hill
Waits September’s chill
And summer’s evaporation