Pages

Monday, March 4, 2024

Ode to Father Time

Dear Father Time...

I never tire of your ways...

Your sweet and sun-steeped golden days...(today, a balmy 20C)



Your contours, swaddled in soft grays...


Your landscapes, washed in pink...



A quick pit-stop for supper and off again)



Spring is like a dog straining wildly at its leash today!

I never tire of your ways
Your sweet and sun-steeped golden days
Your contours, swaddled in soft grays
Your landscapes, washed in pink
Your rough-and-tumble give and take
Your waves that sob and surge and break
Across shorelines that gleam and ache
With untamed poem-ink

I never tire of your hymn
It trembles in the barren limb
And throbs as buds begin to brim
With orchestras of green
With daybreak’s lilac-tinted sighs
And twilight’s gentle lullabies
With hellos, harboring goodbyes
With all that falls between

I never tire of your waltz
Your minuet and somersaults
Your promenade that never halts
But twirls me round and round
Till I am breathless with delight
Yet never tire of the sight
Of you, gilt-edged ‘gainst gath’ring night
Of a new day unbound

I never tire of your ease
Turning moments to memories
Taming my younger-hungered pleas
With humble thankfulness
My cheek against your stubbly chin
Ah, darling, how can I begin
To count your ways I cannot win
Yet love you nonetheless

© Janet Martin




No comments:

Post a Comment

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