The golden-rod is silver...
Time will take its
course
The leaf must fall away
And by a moment’s force
The gold will turn to gray
Both seed and deed will
bear
Its fruit; the law of such
Ascribes to Deity somewhere
That our hands cannot touch
When that last trump is blown
Love will conquer
all
We are not doomed to strife
For all will hear His call
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!