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