…and all the while the hours smile
Filling the day with cricket lay
The dust that long harbored our trust
Is wild and sweet with wheat and hay
The morning dark forsook the lark
He heralds fairer climes somewhere
We drink the ink of bronze and pink
Splayed on the brink of Here to There
August befriends musk-misty blends
Awareness keened upon its sheen
Where happiness puts on a dress
Of gold and blush and
chartreuse-green
The pond beyond lush bracken- frond
Is filled with noise of carefree boys
Life’s startling truth, so kind to youth
Disguised in summer-setting joys
As all the while the hours smile
And blooms beguile the eye with art
Before the leaf-lorn silence mourns
August, in tempests of the heart
© Janet Martin
I'm ever amazed at the beauty of your poetry, Janet!
ReplyDeleteI love that first line... it rolls so smoothly off my tongue. I want to keep saying it over and over.
BTW, I was so pleased to see your article in FellowScript this issue. It was a joy to read.
Hi Brenda,
ReplyDeleteThank-you so much. I'm still waiting for my issue; sort of excited and sort of nervous! I appreciate your encouragement.