Saturday, March 8, 2014

March Midnight

Cold darkness drips where daylight slips
To past’s infinity
The deepening of dusk’s offspring
Obliterates earth’s lea
How restless seems a dreamer’s dreams
Eager for spring’s respite
Yet cannot leap beyond the deep
Of March’s mute midnight

It probes the tears for vanished years
Searching from star to star
The tenderness of youthfulness
A shadow faint and far
Where longing is the ecstasy
Of things once held, then lost
And having is the agony
Of suffering love’s cost

The brook that sings where summer flings
Her leaf upon its sweep
Will stilly slip from winter’s grip
To tune the midnight deep
Its gypsy wind croons wild yet kind
Harmless, but I am told
It whirls and twirls our little girls
Across childhood’s threshold

The unclad arch of midnight March
Sighs for spring’s softer sash
Yet we are torn twixt it and morn
Where thief and thinker clash
As give and take of moments break
Across a phantom beach
And one more day is brushed away
To ports beyond our reach

© Janet Martin

Our 'baby' turns thirteen tomorrow ! oh my...

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