Time’s winsome ways can turn one’s gaze
Back to a world of yesterdays
Its stomping ground surreal-ly bound
Where naught but echoes can be found
Its dusty lanes ring with refrains
Of barefoot bliss and summer rains
And things we didn’t know had strings
Until Time tested its new wings
Then how it burned as love re-learned
How nothing but farewell is earned
And each hello is the plateau
Hinged to life’s longest letting go
...where sometimes we walk more slowly
The brink that brushes history
As touch betrays thought’s reaching gaze
Upon time’s winding, winsome ways
© Janet Martin
Rob and Emily came over to watch the game...and celebrate after a nail-biter!! woo-hoo! Canada wins Gold! And what a short while ago was a mystery already is history...'tis time's winsome way.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!