Wednesday, September 1, 2010


I would fight for what we love
But sister, what’s the use?
Gold hails from the walnut grove
And pine-cones from the spruce
We're powerless against the rule
Of times allotted hours
And sister, we would be a fool
To rearrange God's flowers

The trail of daisy and blue-strife
The barley fields of gold
Become the portraits of a life
As we are growing old
For we were green and carefree too
In pastures of our youth
The day was long and deep and blue
Before life’s somber truth

And though we fight with all our might
Summer turns to fall
And all that there is left of it
Are memories to recall
Sister, in life’s silver streams
We'll toss a restless sigh
For in its course we see our dreams
Of youth go drifting by

We could fight for what we love
But sister, summer’s dying
The faded bloom is living proof
And there’s no use in crying
The shadow lengthens on the wall
A cool wind draws our hand
Yes sister, it will soon be fall
But wasn’t summer grand?

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Written for my sister, Carolyn
who turned 40 two days ago!!!

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