Thursday, October 13, 2022

The Grass Withers


The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God stands forever.”
Isa.40:8

This verse inspired today's poem,
started at 7:00 a.m.
Why is it not getting posted till after 6:00 p.m.?
Well, before I was quite finished with it tot # 1 arrived
and was delighted to help with some chores 
connected with yesterday's garden-purge!
First job. Prep Swiss chard for freezing.
I cut off the leaves and he put the stalks in a pail...


Then tot # 2 arrived excited to peel beets!
Tot #1 politely declined to help with this very purple task😅


Victoria is taking roasted veg to a supper potluck.

When I looked for the pan, I remembered it's in the oven with a batch of granola
I put in along with lunch prep! 😅😐
In the spring I was the happy recipient of an air fryer
won at a stag and doe!
Today I used it for the first time, to cook our lunch! 
fries and chicken fingers for tots then squash for my lunch!
and I am in the process
of trying to give it a permanent home on my already full countertop...


because the squash was PERFECT with 2 tsp. of olive oil
and seasoning and a drizzle of maple syrup!


Can't wait to try all the recipes in the book! Next? Cabbage steak!


...back to the potluck!
The girl who was going to bring pie for dessert isn't feeling well
so suddenly in the midst of veg-eruption...pie!



now the tots have gone home
after some baby grandson cuddles, of course!!
Potluck food is on its way.
(insert chamber music lol!)

This evening I will pickle the beets...

and chop and stir-fry the Swiss chard to freeze for soups etc.
make a quick batch of tomato soup with the last of the tomatoes

oh! Yes, there was a poem on the back burner!
Now, do you understand the delay?!

The grass, it withers
The flowers, they fade...


The wind, it winnows
The tree of its shade...

The grass, it withers
The flowers, they fade
The wind, it winnows
The tree of its shade
The garden is quiet
Its rush hour through
Where once a riot
Of seed splendor grew

The orchard’s glimmer
Of garnet and gold
Wanes before winter
Turns corridors cold
Before the hustle
Of gales sweeps its halls
Where footsteps rustle
Where leaf-lyric falls

Where children frolic
And chatter and play
Before time’s music
Draws childhood away
Before they weather
The surge of a sea
Light as a feather
Yet wild as can be

The golden luster
Of leaf ambience
Pales in the bluster
That blows out its lamps
Leaving the streets of
Autumn softly strewn
With remnant glints of
Summer’s afternoon

© Janet Martin








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