The bud that broke and thrilled the limb
That spilled in floral diadem
Has wept its petals to the breeze
And long forgotten centuries
The marsh that throbbed with giddy trill
Of spring-peepers, is stiff and still
The garden, once a paradise
Of bloom; a tomb of tattered sighs
How swift spring-summer-autumn drift
To epitaphs scrawled on a gift
Of moment-gold we cannot hold
For Time is insistent and bold
…and strips the bud that broke and thrilled
The limb where spring and summer spilled
To winds of phantom, freight-like train
That brings December once again
It rumbles from wide open skies
And showers silver sparkle-sighs
To eventide once dull and brown
December is November’s crown
© Janet Martin
I was inspired by the scraggly limbs outside the window...gone the sleepy, leafy sigh of summer-autumn lullaby
December's crown is a little brown right now...but we're not complaining. November was much whiter than we needed it to be;-)
