Sweet, Sweet the Still

Sweet, sweet the still

Of fall’s repose

The dormant season

Of the rose

Where drifting dirge

In memory flows

Across earth’s tempered tides

Of grassy green and vesper-lay

Of clover mien and summer-day

Of sun-kissed scene and willow-sway

Where retrospect resides

Sweet, sweet the still

Of winter hush

The woodland void

Of lark and thrush

Where landscapes bow

Beneath a brush

Dripping with ice and snow

Over the umber aftermath

Of summer’s dusty barefoot path

Where in the quiet echoes laugh

In tender afterglow

Sweet, sweet the still

Of mantled brook

Of winter laden

Summer-nook

Of aspen-song

And bloom forsook

Beneath gust-gilded glaze

Sweet, sweet the still of nature’s surge

The emptiness of autumn’s purge

The wonderment of snowflake splurge

Embellishing our gaze

© Janet Martin 

I love getting out on winter mornings to listen to the quiet.

 And yes, it is finally white!