Cricket-canticle

One night I heard it start

A prelude, faint and far

Of lone minstrel strumming the dark

Beneath the evening star

But now, the passageway

Of summer into fall

Is serenaded by a lay

Of cricket-canticle

Beneath leaf-laden vine

And petal-portico

These weary-less songsters incline

Our thoughts to letting go

The heart’s reluctant urge

Cannot restrain the clock

Is it a madrigal or dirge

That fills the garden-walk?

An hour seems discrete

And insignificant

Yet slows the scamper in child-feet

Where seasons ever chant

…one night I heard it start

Where now the air is full

Of Time’s betrothal to the heart  

And cricket-canticle

© Janet Martin