Soft, Like Summer Snow

Hour falls asunder

Flower follows suit

New bud wakens wonder

Bearing fleeting fruit

Laughter filters sorrow

Present spills to past

Drawing from the morrow

Refills to its cast

Girl becomes a woman

Boy becomes a man

Mother hears an echo

‘Catch me if you can’

Sing a song of seasons

Round and round they go

Flowers, hours falling

Soft, like summer snow

© Janet Martin