Beneath the evening’s summer sky
The mist melts mutely on the dell
Where all the thoughts I cannot tell
Like unhinged flowers fall awry
Life’s imperfection strikes a chord
Somewhere within its ache exhales
As on the air the dusk impales
Itself on thought too keen for word
…and I would spell its vaunt for you
But, oh my love, to bare the whole
Is to unravel heart and soul
And darling, words would never do
Beneath the stars where daydreams sleep
I sample syllables of naught
But none can weave my wistful thought
Drifting into the drowsy deep
© Janet Martin
Sometimes the words that we would say
In hungry silence fall away...J~
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!