Of Picture-laden Streams...

Sometimes I think I’d like to save the thought of you where blue and gold

Drip heedlessly twixt me and you on our way to growing old

But thought has a mind of its own refusing oft, to quite adhere

To commands whispered where the tone of moments croon and commandeer

These moments fill the gap that grows where that last yesterday we spent

Is covered ‘neath a hundred snows or more and it seems time is bent

On kissing, pressing other places, faces where once you and I

Were not so old and full of moments poured from pitchers in the sky

Sometimes, in the sudden quiet aftermath of push and shove

I remember; you and I slip from resolve’s cold, olden glove

Long enough to keep the picture that would fade away, I fear

While I saved it where new moments press and push and pioneer

We, for a lifetime of moments cannot relive even one

Seasons have a way reaching over all we’ve said and done

And the rush of tides beneath us keeps us on our toes, it seems

Where thought flounders in the free-fall of new picture-laden streams

© Janet Martin

gotta go. time to tidy today's 'picture-streams';-)