Friday, June 15, 2012

Oh Still the Hastening Bloom




Oh, still the hastening bloom
That crowns the summer’s day
I must hold its tender fold
Before it fades away

Oh, still the ticking clock
That peals the quickened hour
I must pause a bit because
I need to smell the flower

Oh, still the sassy breeze
That steals its fragrant leaf
And tucks to earth arboreal birth
With not one tear of grief

Oh, still the hastening bloom
Too soon its petals weep
For they as I, bud, bloom, then die
Restored to Heaven’s keep

© Janet Martin

Inside a birthday card I received she wrote ‘Bloom where you’re planted’.
On my run yesterday morning I was struck by the beauty in the wildflowers simply ‘blooming where they are planted’.



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