(some photos of 'her face' in the past week)
I never tire of your face
From dark folds you emerge
A newborn gathering of grace
Pure, virgin moment-surge
Somehow twixt farewell and hello
You shed your haggard stance
Where steps disheartened, weary, slow
Yearn now to leap and dance
Your form, refreshed and darkness-bathed
Exhales replenished mirth
Your labyrinth of yesterdays
Cannot return to earth
From charcoal cocoon your emerge
Draping the sunless slope
With tender mercy’s rampant splurge
And dawn’s refurbished hope
© Janet Martin
So often it amazes me, how the old becomes new in the morning.
What our mothers said is true, 'it always looks better in the morning'.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!