Garden Siesta Song

 

After the garden is plowed...

...it always seems to beg a farewell-ballad

Like a pungent, umber blanket tucked in all along each edge

Autumn’s garden, slumber-readied tugs at Twilight’s loose heart-threads 

Sky-high noon of laughing summer has its sun-spun luster lost 

Now October yields to kisses brusque with dusk and leaf embossed 

Soon a crop of stars will sparkle on the midnight of the sod 

And the plot that popped with colour will be covered up by God 

Granting to the soil sweet respite while fruit-flower founts are sealed 

Interceding for the good of both the grower and the field 

Longing and relief entangle in the furrows, doffed and brown 

Where the silk of echo-spangles wafts aloft like thistledown 

As the murmur of spent summer like a brook, not frozen yet 

With a tempo of mementos plays a tender minuet 

Sleep, dear garden do not worry what the morrow holds for thee 

God has said as long as earth is, seed and harvest-time will be 

Snuggle up and take thy rest now, beneath downy sheets of snow 

While you earned winter’s siesta, I was learning to let go 

© Janet Martin 

Minuet in G

Skimming the surface of Echo-spangles...

The bright side of a poor potato patch...lots of play-space!