Today; No More or Less

 What are you doing with your today? 

Mine started with a dentist appointment...
 and ended with supper-soup and scones...the scones inspired by this post.

For all that love and life will let

Of care to bear; of shares gold, gray

Of all that good or ill beget

It never sends more than Today

For all the war of living’s woe

And all the weight that Worry sires

Still thank God, by whose grace we go

Today is all that He requires

For all that He expects of us

And all we humbly hope through Him

He never, ever asks of us

More than the day that we are in

For all of trouble’s misery

And all the good that we forget

We know, no matter what will be

Today is all He’ll ever let

© Janet Martin

Caught By Seasoned Surprise

Somber earth slumbers beneath umber quilt

Summer, then autumn slips soft from each stem

Color climaxes, dims, strips limbs of lilt

Shallows replenished with leaf-diadem

Past pursues us, love, or oh, so it seems

Draining time’s riptide to rose-mist requiems

Flowers, save for a few late-bloomers, fade

Farewell finds footholds in fresh-fashioned sighs

Hours are a camouflaged promenade

Where tick by tock’s give-and-take synchronize

Sometimes the rhyme-scheme of Time’s pantomimes

Vexes the vagabond learning its lines

Season-song silvers the sedge by the fence

Blue finds new hues as dusk’s backdrop adheres

To branches, stark in their bare-naked stance

Where the romance of leaf-dance disappears

Darling, did you hear its fleet-footed fling?

Because frankly dear, I did not hear a thing

© Janet Martin

If You Were I and I Were You...

 This was yesterday...

She thought it was a perfect coolish-autumn day to tromp through  the woods

and he thought it was a perfect coolish-autumn day to turn up the heat and have a big sleep.

If you were I

And I were you

Then when we two

Would get together

I suppose

…on second thought

We still would not

Understand each other

Any better

© Janet Martin

Of Leaf-song Spent...

The Brigadoon

Of middle June

And cricket-tune

And harvest moon

Is past

Fall's frosted stills

Mull heady thrills

And ruddy spills

Where summer’s frills

Are cast

The air is deep

A sea of sleep

Where seasons sweep

And eons steep

Its core

As Time is bent

With moments lent

Beneath a tent

Of leaf-song spent

Once more

© Janet Martin

Little Leaf-dirge...

Ah, little leaf, your capsheaf, silent sod

Alone on autumn's begging lair you lie

Where no one sees your still demise, save God

Or some fall-drunken drifter passing by

To kneel perchance beside your nameless berth

And thank God for your little dance on earth

© Janet Martin

Where One Seed Fell...

 

I love wordles though its been a long time since I've tried one!
The Sunday Whirl offers a weekly prompt

For
all the
thousand,
thousand ways
that birth is spent 
(its matter... Days)
The only plant that fully thrives
Is grown when seeds break as one gives
So, when we wake and bounce from bed
then delve into the day ahead
We should plant well,
for who can tell
What bloom
will sprout
where
one
seed
fell

Janet~