Mystery...

What do you hold in your mold, little day?

Far on the east you release your first sigh

Touching with gold the low fringe of the sky

Greeting the morning where night slips away

What will you spill to the rill, minute-hand?

Meted in moments of tick-tocking stealth

Flicker of fortune and whisper of wealth

Fought for in trenches beneath love’s command

What will you seal on your reel, little hour?

Ere you surrender your silk to the air

What will we hear on June night-fathoms where

Echoes embellish the breeze in the bower

What will we chase with your grace, tender Time?

Jingle of pocket or treasures of trust?

Soon you return to slumber in the dust

What will you tell ere the evening bell chimes?

© Janet Martin

...as I was about to post this our hydro went out again! What other surprises await this day?...No man knows!