Enough Said...

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!