Saturday, June 22, 2013


The pink orb drops away, away
A killdeer trills its farewell lay
From meadow swathed in purple mist
Where wafts the scent of hay, dew-kissed
Softly the bluer ramparts lower
Closing the lids of child and flower
Folding to fast, eternal rest
Each moment cradled and caressed
As willow tree and zephyr sigh
A slow and sultry lullaby

Now thought grows long, tender and deep
Soon weariness will yield to sleep
As pliant hours pour their mien
In raven draught across the green
Over the crag and trampled grass
Night tips the darkness from its glass
And we borrow from wiser men
Words to sustain midnight’s mute pen
Straining to hear the words they speak
In whispered tears upon the cheek

© Janet Martin


  1. This is absolutely beautiful. I so love the rhythm and rhyme of your pieces - they flow so beautifully, and always have the most wonderful message, tender and loving.


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