September-Sentimentality

September always seems to steep my senses with an urgency to

stop more, to savor summer's final fling!,

even while I haste from garden to kitchen with

harvest to gather and preserve!

(rescuing tomatoes from rows ravaged with blight!!)

While collecting ingredients for savoury supper dishes...

I am so thankful for a poetry loving mother,

who first kindled and nurtured my love for poetry;

 for cadence of rhythm and rhyme ...

Seems sometimes I grow homesick for places I’ve never been

For waves that wash a far-off shore of seas I’ve never seen

For sun and shadow play on views that ache in thought’s ‘suppose’

Before they slip away in hues of amber, blue and rose

Seems sometimes I grow lonesome for someone I’ve never known

A kindred-spirit troubadour not made of skin and bone

But of a whisper that ignites a kind of poetry

That kindles roaring appetites for what will never be

Seems sometimes I grow wistful for worlds long-forgotten, oh

For misty sun-kissed vistas or river-rush far below

And I grow sentimental over lyrics still untamed

In melodies still wafting in masterpieces unnamed

Seems sometimes in September I am bitter-sweetly torn

Twixt Summer’s dying ember and beauty’s bliss, Autumn-born/borne

Seems sometimes in the twilight of another summer’s sweep

I sense a tender kinship with past poets, fast asleep

Seems sometimes all the orchards, gardens, crickets, butterflies

The blues, purples and golds that paint a poet’s paradise

Of white heath asters, gleam of goldenrod, of milkweed's blush

Anoints me with a sense of living 'neath an Artist’s brush

Seems sometimes I can almost hear an almost-symphony

A grand medley of solos and unrivaled harmony

As flower-bowers crescendo then fade, as woodlands flare

Seems sometimes I can almost feel nature’s baton, mid-air

© Janet Martin

One evening I commented to my mother how much I love the sound of crickets

and she wondered if I remember the poem about the cricket and the ant...

My organized mom knew where in her scads of clippings to (hopefully) find it!

And she did. a very timely reminder!

“A slack hand causes poverty,

 but the hand of the diligent makes rich.”

 (Proverbs 10:4)

“The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing,

 while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied.”

 (Proverbs 13:4)