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