Of Dew And Dust...

We are not quite as carefree as we were in days gone by

And Something makes us linger longer where the petals lie

Where hour upon hour that we pour our lives into

Like flower-gardens, bloom then fade; a fugitive ado

Morality, legality, frugality, oh my

Are quite enough, my love, both heart and hand to occupy

We sense a Requisition, dense with dew and harvest dust

And realize Submission is an Elemental Must

Time’s law of live-laugh-love is rife with life’s vexatious Durst

Its surrender-grief-death, unequivocal as the first

Summer slips through our learning reach with granted gifts galore

While yearning fingertips and lips beseech, acquiesce, implore

Ah, we have not lived long enough to know what lies ahead

But oh, we know enough to know our tears are not all shed

Yet love, oh, splendid love still fills the flagging frame with hope

Where Summer weans dew-dusty sheen from sun and shadow slope

The air is sweet with the depleting ways of bloom and bud

The green-grass chair where we put up our feet will soon be mud

And all the things we planned to do in summer’s shining day

Will, like the ilk of dust and dew, shimmer then fade away

Ah darling, oh, my darling we are not as carefree now

As when we stood on spring’s threshold and Zephyrs kissed our brow

And dreams, like starry streams flowed slow beneath the willow limb  

Where summer seemed quite long enough to condone wish and whim

© Janet Martin

What a week...
phone calls in the middle of the night
most serious conversation in the middle of the night(please pray?)
(there is such a fine line between betraying confidence and 'bearing one another's burdens')
waiting for jars to be done steaming in the middle of the night
I begin, in spite of the love of it, to feel 'Summer' weary