A Song-of-Seasons Quilt

And that’s the way life is

A song-of-seasons quilt

Each swatch a patch stitched into place

With scenes that living spilt

The new year to the old

Is seamlessly adhered

The blunder with fresh wonder cast

To triumphs we revered

No rhyme or reason hints

What colors will appear

Or which will dominate the tints

That deftly binds a year

My, how time’s fingers fly

As tear and laughter threads

Are woven into symmetry

Charcoal, bronze, blues with reds

A colorful collage

Of gray to green to gold

The flower-garden dipped in frost

Bashful shades blend with bold

...as heart-string intersect

A tangled testament

For we know none can resurrect

One moment that is spent

Yes, that’s the way life is

From looms of grace-lace spilt

Time takes its This-and-That and makes

A song-of-seasons quilt

© Janet Martin

My sincere apologies to all but just for fun I 'stitched' the twelve squares together...

What a flashback! What a flash!

What a day yesterday was!

Beneath Downy Deep, Summer Lies Asleep

Without a word earth dons a winter coat

And ties a hat of wool under her chin

The garden is a dream in her pocket

The wind a trumpeter with rosy grin

The valley-green is muffled ‘neath a throw

Of diamond-dusted satin; stilled woods sigh

Where but a little autumn-while ago

Feet splashed through russet tatters of July

Behind doored walls with peepholes yellow-set

A coffee-flavored morning starts to stir

How suddenly its windowed frames forget

A world unfurled with flower-field color

The gray face of the sky tops every tree

Its pall, funereal-like, a stone-faced stare

Then like a surge of laughing girls set free

Ten-thousand ballerinas fill the air

...and the footwork of people fills the streets

Silence is spiked with fluffy white halloos

As if none have seen snow-scenes quite like this

The weather is the story on the news

Up yonder Old Man Winter clears his throat

Down-deep summer lies, sound asleep in bed

Without a word earth dons a winter coat

And ties a hat of wool upon her head

© Janet Martin

...well, maybe 'down-deep' is a bit of a stretch but the snow did not disappear with the rain yesterday,

as I mentioned it likely would...oh, well.

After the Girl

After the laughter and clinking of spoons

After the stirring and sipping of tea

After a slow-steeped love-spun afternoon

We keep a beautiful memory

After the whirl, skip-and-twirl, little girl

After carefree fairy-tale fantasies

After they pass through that door to a world

Of almost-a-woman, what fond memories

© Janet Martin

I had the pleasure of serving tea at another Disney princess party
Present were Minnie Mouse, Alice in wonderland, Belle and Tinkerbell

 

When I asked them how long they plan on doing this they said. oh, for a l-o-o-o-g time, until we're married and everything':)

I wonder how long it will be until they taste the hurt that Emily of New moon described like this 'Outgrowing the things we love is never a pleasant process' 

I wish for them a bit of Disney-princess as long as they live!

Only Time Will Tell

Maybe, in time I will not feel

Those scars tattooed on the keel of the clock

Expanding with moments the reel of an ocean

Shaped with the motion of tick and tock

Maybe, in Time I can say without sorrow

That once we were more than a whisper or two

Before the ever overbearing tomorrow

Insisted I borrow blue echoes of you

Maybe in time I will brave the full impact

Of remnant reasons shaped into farewell

Maybe the barge of an hour will conquer

What I cannot; only Time will tell

© Janet Martin