Lest We Miss the Melody....

Slow down, the song of living lilts in day by day appeal

Each morning like a madrigal of mist-spun amethyst

Its hour, like a flower blooms then falls beneath a wheel

Of virgin compositions that we hardly know exist

Slow down and listen to the tune of moment-metered grace

Where haste of hungry days devours spring-bowers with ease

Its green-field hallelujahs turn to bronze; bygone’s embrace

Unwilling to relinquish anything save memories

The genesis of what remains dwindles with every breath

Its skylines running over with carols we often miss

Slow down; revere this prelude to life’s last performance, Death

Love's song of living lilts and tilts toward time’s farewell kiss

God grants us Chance; we should slow dance where seasons stilly sweep

And stun the sun that runs awry on twilight’s diadem

This band of marching footsteps should slow down its headlong leap

Lest we trample on melodies that will not play again

© Janet Martin