Wednesday, January 2, 2013



Once upon a time they seemed, it seemed
Bold hindrance twixt present and future-dream

Now these diamonds, strung into the mist
Flaunt their transience dissolved when kissed

How is it that I, when I was young
Pranced over their worth, soft, silver-strung

Now, foolishly though I grope and I reach
All I can touch is the lessons they teach

© Janet Martin

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