Waning Melody

 

 

Wand wafts, lofty wind-chimes whisper

Strum a slow sun-shadow dance

Soft upon the yellow summer

Fronds fall prey to Thought-Rembrandts

Like a waterfall of flowers

Clover, sage So Long Songs lilt

Tumbling, noiseless from bloom bowers

To a hall of childhood spilt 

Paper airplanes, oak-leaf sailboats

Splay; a winsome interlude

Ere they fade, mosaic eighth-notes

On a page of Past subdued

Come, before the ruddy rushes

Fling their silk coats to the air

And the Thing we cradle pushes

Off into the Blue Somewhere

We are too polite to murmur

Tug of warring heart and mind

Lures us where the yellow summer

Plays on days soon left behind  

Ah, methinks I hear a cricket

Prelude to a symphony

Wafting in the lofty thicket

Of a waning melody

© Janet Martin