A Motley Crew... Holy Blessed

 Here we are; in a world at large

And we, blessed with the charge of it

Should learn to linger for a bit

Where Time is a camouflaged barge

Here we are; where the rush of hours

Insists upon that age-old way

Of morn-noon-night and day to day

Wending from winter through wildflow’rs

…and I for one would hate to miss

The gifts soft-strewed above, beneath

Each season like a sacred breath

Of life to death; a knife-edged kiss

This hasting toward who-knows-what

Would be a wicked waste of years

If we, blinded by fear’s cold tears

Trampled the very things we sought

Where Beauty is love’s thorn-stemmed rose

And heaven is a spring-green haunt

And earth, a wonderland of want

And Toil, the voile of kingly clothes

…and Here we are; a motley fleet

Soul-shod; vessels on seas of sod

Where seasons, like rhinestones from God

Scatter beneath our very feet

© Janet Martin