When She is Gone

When she is gone then we might wish

That we had tried to love her more

So we should pause and dance a bit

With her across earth’s emerald floor

For she is like a little girl

Eager to see what will be next

And soon she’ll be a silver swirl

In autumn’s keen, auburn pretext

So long we waited for her smile

And her ambrosial filament

We ought to beg her to beguile

And draw us from toil’s trivial tent

For soon she’ll gather up her skirts

And wander to another shore

But now she grins, teases and flirts

So we should try to love her more

The daffodil has flung its gold

To warmer breezes sauntering

And soon the tulip will unfold

Its chalice to earth’s hungering

Spring does not force her melody

This artist of nature’s quadrille

Performs her rainbow rhapsody

Then slips beyond the far blue hill

© Janet Martin

Even as I write this I am hoping to have a few moments to squander and wander in reply to her beckoning…tomorrow.