Thursday, September 20, 2012


When morning spills a startling chill
From scarlet-satin skies
And we observe a keener verve
Within her restless eyes
When tree-tops blush beneath her brush
Teasing the verdant limb
We recognize the sure demise
Of summer growing dim
But we cannot dissuade or stop
An hour’s velocity
The hand that tugs the bashful bud
Will strip the leafy tree
And those who once dashed unabashed
By life’s rollicking rhyme
Begin to see Mortality
Within each tick of Time
As morning spills a startling chill
On summer’s memory
We recognize within her eyes
More than we plainly see

© Janet Martin

It is downright COLD these past few mornings!

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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!