Mother's Monday Morning Madrigal

 ...off to Monday's G-races:)...and mountain-mercies.

The undone smiles in laundry-piles and sinks refurbished with their due

The morning spills to gilded rills in hope’s refurnished gold and blue

The give and take of living breaks the will of Want-and-Wishing woe

The hour thirsts for its new’ firsts’ of holding on and letting go

The ether reels from whence time steals forget-me-not and daffodil

Replenishes earth’s hungry tress with flower-trees on wind-teased hill

As Bleeding Heart falls to the art of portraits painted with the Past

While in our hand Time’s virgin sand is trickling swiftly through our clasp

The silver fields to which gold yields its giggling gasp of innocence

Beckons to her within the spur of Duty’s tireless insistence

The unchained clock with tick and tock will brush to naught its bronze-frond bliss

While She must learn to love and yearn for aught but love’s lingering kiss

…found in the smiles of laundry piles and sinks refurbished with their due

While morning swells in flower-bells and chimes in climes of gold and blue

The give and take of living wakes within her heart a paradise

Where hours thirst for love-worn ‘firsts’ and hope reborn in Monday-eyes

© Janet Martin