Sometimes I see a limb of tree etched on dusk’s scrim of sky
And all that I can think to say is this, ‘oh my, oh, my’
Sometimes when wonderment of World captures enraptured sigh
The eloquence of poetry is simply ‘my, oh my’
Sometimes I want for words to fully the soul stirred descry
But all that falls from inept lips is this, ‘oh my, oh my’
Sometimes when my ‘oh my’ falls short on earth’s courtyard
of sod
I look up to the sky and sigh ‘I thank you, thank You, God’
© Janet Martin
We weather the farewell of March's mangy, drenched lion knowing his roar untethers blooms!
I believed the poets; it is they
ReplyDeleteWho utter wisdom from the central deep,
And, listening to the inner flow of things,
Speak to the age out of eternity.
~James Russell Lowell~
:) words from one of the best!
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