Still-life Pageant

 

Oh, still-life pageantry embellishing the air

How fluently you come to me

Like whispers in a prayer

Then run those whispers near where I can almost touch

The echo of those days I love

In scenes I miss so much

Though my cup over-flows with laughter, love and hope

I feel the kiss of longing’s bliss

Ravage thought’s hidden slope

And when the day is still or filled with spring’s cadence

Then suddenly you come to me

In tender confidence

Oh, still life pageantry from fathoms silver-blue

I touch your face as I embrace

Those tender thoughts of you

© Janet Martin

This year's spring-cleaning is unlike any other. I am packing boxes for my daughter who is moving out when she gets married in the fall... a separate container with winter things, a 'don't send it to the thrift-store 'cause Emily might want it' box,  etc...Much opportunity for reflection and echoes.

Cherish the moment soon to be a memory!