When the day is being tucked beneath November-blue flannel,
when Grandson begins to 'wonder'
when the birds snag an early supper,
While we make muffins,
then supper, to a backdrop of Kenny G Christmas, well,
...it calls for Something, like slowly-savoured Poem
(BTW, a poem is enjoyed much like a dessert, slowly, one bite/serving at a time😋)
Over the hills an anthem bleeds
To soothe earth’s fallow scars
A capella of ragged reeds
Tunes echo-tempered bars
The barge of afternoon is drawn
Across a phantom sea
To moor where no one can return
Save in fond reverie
...where poplar-coppice, shimmers-quiv-
ers, silver in the sun
Where tide of Time glimmers, shivers
Where season-rivers run
...where sky is like a belvedere
Its terrace, smoky blue
We climb a flight of yesteryear
To marvel at the view
…and listen to a heart-shaped hymn
That falls through smile-wreathed tears
As swift and soft the shadows dim
And the world disappears
© Janet Martin
Delightful, Janet. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteyou're welcome:) This kind of poem is always a luxurious delight to write! so happy you enjoyed to read it!
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