Time enough turns into seasons
Seasons into epitaphs
Epitaphs into new reasons
To reverence present paths
Soon enough turns into Bygone
Bygone into memories
Memories into halcyon
Purple-misted reveries
Not enough turns into hunger
Hunger into belly’s fire
Fire into ash-strewn heather
Where hope resurrects its spire
Far enough turns into turning
Turning to new roads to tread
New roads turn to live-love-learning
And the seasons time has wed
© Janet Martin
The springboard for this poem was the first line,
'written' in a poem in a dream I was dreaming when the alarm shattered its world for the real world!
I will NOT bore you with the details,
because, as dreams go,
it made NO sense whatsoever!
'written' in a poem in a dream I was dreaming when the alarm shattered its world for the real world!
I will NOT bore you with the details,
because, as dreams go,
it made NO sense whatsoever!
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!