Saturday, May 26, 2012

Of Gray or Golden

We cannot beg the little day
To add another hour
We cannot plead the bloom to stay
When it has ceased to flower

We cannot urge back to the stem
The petal that has fallen
Or taste youth's fair springtime again
To dodge the grip of autumn

We cannot un-speak uttered things
When it has once been spoken
Nor undo yester’s offerings
Of moments bent and broken

We cannot return to the past
To touch the gray or golden
But we can give our utter-best
To moments we are holding

© Janet Martin


  1. The moments are precious. If only I understood this as well as I do now, when I was young. Wonderful words, as always.

  2. I'm beginning to think true understanding of certain things is possible only with age:)Maybe that is what makes 'autumn' bearable? Thank-you Anthony, for your thoughts.


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