Monday, July 26, 2021

Of Dwindling Kindling

 

Because winter fireplaces/woodstoves take a lot of kindling 
we are already on the look-out at the end of people's driveways 
where camp-fire wood is for sale.


Reminds me of a different kind of kindling, 
always dwindling far too fast...


This hour where the flower bluffs
On beauty’s candlestick


Cannot escape the hand that snuffs
Its flicker from the wick



Now frets upon heart’s deep desire
A fond, intoning knell
Where joys that kindled friendship’s fire
Have dwindled to farewell

The dying embers on a hearth
Where round we gathered, oft
Wakens in us the dusk of mirth
In footsteps, keen yet soft

…where pain bends pleasure’s maiden form
In pangs of sweet refrain
To take the tender heart by storm
With ‘till we meet again’

…until in some morrow’s delight
While wounds of parting heal
We’ll tend the echoes that ignite
What farewell cannot steal

P-s-s-s-t! ash to ash and dust to dust
The quickened pulse will fell
Death veils frail trails of wanderlust
With whispers of farewell

This hour where the flower bluffs
On beauty’s candlestick
Cannot escape the hand that snuffs
Its flicker from the wick

Then cherish well heart's deep desire
Beneath high-noon's blue bell
Where joys that kindle friendship's fire
Are dwindling to farewell

© Janet Martin



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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