A tiny breeze upon the air
Tugged my hand and teased my hair
Then drew my eager feet along
A trail of multi-layered song
Of corn-field carol and cricket trill
And maple moans in wooded rill
Past gathered gardens’ tangled maze
And echoes of a dreamer’s gaze
Of autumn creeping o’er a field
Where summer bounty spilled its yield
In centuries beneath the sun
A gasp, a wink and it is done
While new dreams plant the trampled sod
Beneath the faithful hand of God
And reverently I kneel upon
The footstool of love’s changeless One
For He ordains in perfect time
Each season’s rhythm and its rhyme
Of painted sky and purple hill
The plaintive cry of whip-poor-will
The tender limb of verdant grace
Before time leaves its tender trace
In kisses wrought by sun and rain
Of joy and laughter, grief and pain
For life cannot remain for aye
In meadows where soft breezes play
…a tiny breeze upon the air
Tugs my hand; teases my hair…
Janet Martin
Janet, Mike Patrick wrote a poem based on your images at The Poet's Quill. We are friends, and so I had to trip over here to see your work. Lovely rhymes, great rhythm as well. My favorite line was, "where summer bounty spilled its yield/in centuries beneath the sun..." Just beautiful. Thank you! Amy Barlow Liberatore
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I came to look at this via Mike Patrick's Graveyard poem. Very different in style, your poem evokes the same world beautifully.
ReplyDeleteThank-you so much. I think Mike wrote one of his best poems ever, inspired by a photo here. I am happy that he was inspired. Thank-you for visiting and for your words.
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