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Thursday, October 7, 2021

Show-and-Heart Stealer



The first six lines of this poem
I pegged out last night while waiting for the supper crew.
They eventually did come home, 
a little later than normal...


...laughing as they came through the door completely
oblivious to the possibility of steaming cook and
cool food instead of steaming food and cool cook😅

(Actually, one of the great things about being on the lookout for poem-potential is
I am NEVER a steaming cook! I'm an oh-great-A-bit of-unexpected-writing-time-cook!
And yes, this kind of cook sometimes burns over-cooks supper😑

The rest of this poem evolved as today dissolved...


I love the way fall steals the show
While want and wonder ebb and flow
The woodland wick that flares and dims
Cut to the quick by farewell hymns
The brush that highlights bush and bow’r
The hush of twilight’s supper-hour
The glowing benediction of
Rites we have grown to hate and love
Where hearts and hands must learn the art
Of have and hold’s bold counterpart


I love the way a platter snares
The poetry of garden-prayers
Where spoils of toil and mercy meld
In fruit of labor not withheld
Where, as we gather in life’s best
Of hard day’s work and sound night’s rest
We always, first and foremost bring
To Giver, worship’s offering
For health and strength, for harvest yield
From orchard, vineyard, garden, field


I love the way each season spills
A cornucopia of thrills
Where autumn boasts a diadem
Of garnet leaf and berry-gem
But cannot keep for long its crown
From falling-falling-falling down
To ‘splay beneath the barren tree
A picture of mortality
To wake in us need for reply
To so much more than meets the eye


I love the glockenspiel that tolls
And wears fall-fabric full of holes
Where lilt of leaf-song strums until
There is no leaf-song left to spill
Where flowers bloom, but, just like youth
Cannot escape time’s loom of truth
Where cricket-choirs dissipate
Like fires on yon welkin-grate
Where carousel of color twirls
And leaves behind a string of pearls


I love how words like bake and baste
Birth aroma-preludes to taste
Where it is hard to pick and choose
Which favorite recipes to use
But find a few sure to delight
Everyone’s eager appetite
Where cinnamon, ginger and sage
Please palates of most any age
And pumpkin finds its way into
Anything we cook-bake-blend-brew


I love how autumn makes us feel
A little scarlet-umber-teal
A little apple, earth and sea
A trespasser of poetry
A little more aware of how
Swift seasons pirouette and bow
How, in the middle of applause
The scene that Is turns into Was
And new arrangements fill the stage
As subtle as the turn of page


I love when the harvester hums
And gleans the fields of all but crumbs
And even little fellows grin
To see the harvest gathered in
I love autumn on rainy days
Tea-kettle’s hum and candle’s blaze
Content to tackle household chores
Without wishing we were outdoors
I love the way fall steals the heart
With galleries of frameless art 

© Janet Martin

And even little fellows grin
To see the harvest gathered in...




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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!