Wide-eyed Sight-seers

We follow, as if you were our tour guide on a trip

And we, the wide-eyed sightseers trying to take it in

Up, up each trail, over loose shale and dips we slide and slip

While wonder drips like a ripe peach regaling our chins

Where mist of morning like a pale silk cape drapes purple hills

Where beneath noon’s blue-sky umbrella we serve bread and tea

Where twilight is an open stage showcasing cricket trills

And midnight is a galleon that sails a raven sea

Our hearts are like deep pockets for tokens we want to keep

A broken bit of this, a golden that, a Thing or two

And oh, the art that we collect could fill night’s starry sweep

Where only thought can resurrect its picturesque review

…as on we go and do not know where he will take us next

Over, under, across, around, onward-bound pantomime

Panting, laughing, sighing, praying, sometimes glad, sometimes vexed

For we are wide-eyed sight-seers following Father Time

© Janet Martin