Arrival hails as dawn impales earth’s dome
A gong, red-golden tolls, folds purple deep
Life stirs where twilight blurred and stilled with sleep
The boulevards of far-from-here to home
Morning’s gradual smile becomes a grin
Of lark and cricket-lay, its barking dust
Draws us toward its holy, howling Must
Where hunger stokes The Warrior within
Yesterday’s tatters, scattered beyond reach
Will not be gathered: Morning offers New
The mileage on its virgin avenue
Awaits, where spades and garden-gates beseech
Hoe-to-shoulder, hand-to-wheel, oh my
The bread of idleness can starve the soul
Fat cheeks and pockets cannot make us Whole
Though greed rapes need, it cannot satisfy
Farewell’s mute knell stokes morning’s pealing bells
The foot-soldiers of moments, left-foot-right
March into battle; soon it will be night
Morning opens full-wide; her laughter swells
© Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!