Shriek-shriek of jays scores autumn’s morn
Honk-honk of wild-geese overhead
Stitches a ragged vee-shaped thread
Above frost-faded fields of corn
They tug at strings wrapped round its art
Then bound to berths deep in the heart
Tatters of summer start to fall
Sparking thought’s thrall of joy and grief
Where, written on each little leaf
Are pieces of a madrigal
The bud, the bloom, the swift descents
Depicting life’s brief residence
The wind woos woodland’s coloured crown
Down, down the darling jewels spill
Like children laughing, twirling till
The hill is decked with gold-red-brown
Each little leaf that bobs and floats
Like goblins lobbing shawls and coats
…and on a lake of afternoons
That rolls across echo-washed shores
We sense an urgent surge that pours
Through flues to hour-shaped pontoons
Soon beached upon Bygone’s sand-bars
While we were trawling for sea-stars
The jars that gleam from cellar-rooms
Hold more than gathered garden-fare
It seems prudent endeavors snare
A winter-world of summer blooms
Well worth the while of song-filled hours
To taste the smile of long-felled flow’rs
Around the clock four seasons spin
While we walk the tight-rope of years
And let our sentimental tears
Sweeten the season we are in
Because there is to every time
A purpose to its rhythmed rhyme
And thus, the poet, born to weep
In ink, accrues the aftermath
Of days that strew the garden path
Into a memento to keep
Long after we have lost the String
That finds and winds its way to spring
Then, even though we fondly mourn
The days and dreams that are no more
We fill heart-lockets with a score
Of mementos mutely reborn
To pause, soft as a butterfly
Upon the flower of a sigh
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!