The first shoots, fresh and green
Are fragile, delicate
We must treat them with gentle care
Lest in our haste they break
Speak gently to the child
That in life’s road we meet
Lest thoughtlessly we wound the heart
So young and pure and sweet
Live gently, do not run
This race with frantic rush
For then we may not turn to see
The tender souls we crush
Hold gently to the hand
Of love, for who can tell
When the last drop of moment-song
Will whisper Time’s farewell?
© Janet Martin
We are eagerly a-waiting those first shoots of spring!
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!