In vain the bloom clings to her dream
Futile the sedums rosy gleam
Tis but a journey to the stream
Lined with May’s asphodel
In vain the mother clasps the hours
Where she can hold her precious flowers
Before she stands in autumn’s bowers
Where summers shadows fell
The fragrance of the eucharis
The bloom of youth’s temporal kiss
The ecstasy of love’s caress
Are whispers in the air
She lingers in the setting sun
Embraces each bloom one by one
Autumn waits alas for none
And soon her arms are bare
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Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!