Friday, January 14, 2022

Of Glint and Fray


It is impossible 
to return
to undo 
or redo
what we would do
differently 
if given the chance

All we can do
is the best 
we can do
with what we hold
today...


This💖💖💖 (do you remember those dream-sweet play-days?)💘




Lots of little flash-back moments as the tots of today
dust off the toys of yesterday
and fill them with starry-eyed pleasures once again,
as the little hands that used to play with them are now 
juggling the demands and responsibilities
of growing up

Timeless thrills...


The beginning...
I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; 
and indeed, all is vanity and grasping for the wind.
Eccles.1:14

The conclusion...
Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter:
 Fear God and keep his commandments, 
for this is the duty of all mankind.
Eccles.12:13


Ah, life the way it used to be
Gleams like a summer, sun-kissed sea
Cupped in a sigh, a memory
A vault of yesterdays
Whilst look, the dark above us dims
Like brook-song, morning’s skyline brims
A canticle of hopes-whims-hymns
Shimmers on untouched trays

…with friendship waiting to be made
With Duty’s common promenade
With Poetry’s awed escapade
With high five and low blow
With mercy and sufficient grace
With smile upon a loved one’s face
With hand to hold and dream to chase
With wonderment and woe

…with turning older, tick by tock
Yet, learning not to watch the clock
But rather where and how we walk
While Time is on our side
To try to taste full flavors of
The subtle nuances of love
And to never get quite enough
Of moments not yet tried

While dust to dust and ash to ash
Waits to reduce its starry splash
And slow the feet that dance and dash
Through childhood’s greenest green
Until they too gaze at a sea
Cupped in a sigh, a memory
Of life the way it used to be
Before the years between

Ah, life the way it used to be
Is juxtaposed with you and me
And present opportunity
To tint the glint and fray
That tunes the tide that ebbs and flows
With echo-molded mementos
That wash in pictures we compose
With what we hold today 

© Janet Martin


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