Oh gentle day, nudging away the veil that drapes nature’s
repose
Soft fingertips, murmuring lips whisper to naught night’s
sable throes
The earth expands beneath her hands where mercy’s promise
intercedes
As grace employs immortal joys and Hope nurtures our mortal
needs
The woodland sings where bird-song rings in acclamation to
her cues
The haunted dell and darkened fell emerge clothed in
gleaming chartreuse
In thinning dark our dreams embark beneath the arabesque
incline
Of coral-gold; see it unfold a virgin bloom on mercy’s vine
Within her breath both life and death tremble upon Time’s
argent wing
Where angels tread and mortal thread glimmers; a sheer,
ephemeral thing
Change wields its mien; from subtle skein her gossamer caress
unfurls
How brief the span from boy to man; soon womanhood slips
over girls
Where is the limb that lifts the scrim of midnight’s tender,
turbid trance?
We touch the spoil of duty’s toil and praise the God of
second chance
Rendered respite of middle-night dissolves within the ruby
splay
Of gentle dawn nudging far yon the remnant shades of
yesterday
© Janet Martin
amazing and true
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