Ah, taste the tide that drips from high
And drink its ebbing strain
The flower of its ‘my-oh-my’
Will never bloom again
Beyond yon fence the testaments
Of summer’s tatters lie
Beneath the blue and brooding tents
Of November-hung sky
Futile to weep upon a heap
Of what will never be
While morning pours from deep to deep
An almost-memory
So taste the tide that drips from high
For soon its tilted jar
Will drain the color from the sky
And pin it with a star
© Janet Martin
Speaking of taste-test,
last night for supper I tried this new recipe
Do you have cabbage from the garden that could use some using?
These cabbage rolls are a Delicious!
Oooh this is nice. And those cabbage rolls look really good, too!
ReplyDeleteThey were super-yummy! ;-0
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