Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Death of a Day...

Shall I take off my shoes?
For surely this is sacred soil
As hallowed hush covers the rush
And panting of our mid-day toil
Lo, now your hour is spent
And you will be no more
You slip away to rest for aye
On past’s immortal shore

We, humble witnesses
Or arrogant and proud
Behold as one the coming down
Of heaven’s somber shroud
Across your slumb’ring form
It draws its raven veil
While we remain to drink again
The cup of life’s travail

Into the out-stretched arms
Of history’s vast tomb
Your corpse is laid; none can its hate
Or lavish love exhume
On earth’s ebony sod
The wise kneel down to pray
This moment flow will soon bestow
To each our Judgment Day

© Janet Martin

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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed by the visit! I welcome and appreciate, if thought you care to speak; the value and the input of compliment or critique