Friday, September 15, 2017

September-Summer...a tweaked re-post:)

Azure air is all a flutter with leaf-yellow butterflies
Where good-morning’s molten hello fades into saffron good-byes
Glints of scarlet tint the treetops hinting at autumnal crown
Finches chartreuse sun-bob deepens to a modest, mundane brown

...and the garden, once a busy wonderland for dreamer’s feet
Is a ghost-town filled with echoes of love’s 'let-go' bitter-sweet
While the whiles that long we longed for, call to us from Bygone’s shore
As we lean to grasp at laughter from a Place that is no more in whispers; we are creatures born to brave want’s filament
Where the severing of seasons stirs an honest discontent
For the heart at best can harbor only jaded fragments, oh,
Of a Summer and a Garden in thought’s phantom picture-show

Then, with noses pressed to windows of Present, stalwart we peer
To yon shadow-stippled skylines full of future’s belvedere
As we touch the such-and-much that molds our fumbling fingertips
And we hug the have-and-hold that with the gold of autumn slips

To the folds of farewell’s fortress; ah, this fellowship of days
Is a free-fall overflowing with Time’s ever-weaning ways
While it draws an awed awareness of the sacredness of This
How the blush and rush of moments burns us with a lover’s kiss

Then turns cold, and we are old and summer-longs of quickened youth
Are like hazy, far-off outlines of a life before the truth
Of trite tick-tock seared its tally in the valleys of our skin
And the tree that sheds its glory feels to us like next of kin

For we sense in its undoing the hierarchy of all life
How its blooming and its beauty will fall prey to autumn’s knife
And the summer-long we longed for slips through fingertips to naught
Save the picture-shows we harbor in our hearts and in our thought

As we stand upon the fault-line that will winnow with its sighs
Frames filled with fields flushed with harvest and hushed mother-like good-byes
Where the fullness of a season rankles reason with love's pains
And wonderment's invitation to attend what yet remains

© Janet Martin


Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed by the visit! I welcome and appreciate, if thought you care to speak; the value and the input of compliment or critique