I wrote the first half of this poem this morning and the latter half this evening after a flower-splashed chatter-and-laughter-busy day...
My morning plan; to see those 'wild orchards' in the distance up close this eve, but rain 'intervened'
Aubade
The bloom that harbors harvest tune fills orchard-rooms with
hope
The boon that breaks the bud draws eyes to plush, blush-shrouded slope
Spring’s hour-glass spills flowers to bowers, long bare and
grim
Where earth is like a belfry tower chiming nature’s hymn
This place where human race parades their promenade of days
Is so much more than that which panoramic past portrays
Beneath the bending breath that brims with life, man picks a
path
And oh, how awesome is the outcome of its aftermath
The hill is like a lap of green where spring has sprung as
last
The heart is like a clapping queen because winter is past
The morn is like a newborn, time-worn steppingstone, its
course
A season- wending passageway back to Beginning’s source
Nocturne
Plenty to do with willing hands to do it; what a gift
For we are not to live like little pontoons set adrift
But with hope’s holy hunger passion’s purest purpose prove
Our greatest attribute and offering in life, this; love
Hello, farewell the bell of twilight tolls a tender lay
The skyline is a masterpiece of black on soft rosé
The perpendicularity of hold and letting go
Is like a violinist playing star-strings, sweet and slow
The earth feels lonelier beneath dark vesper-velveteen
Heaven seems nearer now than when the world is blue and
green
Away, away the day is shushed into eternity
We clutch at pretty petals fallen from its flower-tree
© Janet Martin
