The World Beyond My Perch -one more year

I sat last night,
tired legs
o'er the arms of my old wicker chair
'One more year.'
A sigh
too weary to pray
or sing my late day chant
.
Don Juan and new-mown grass
whisper
a promise of gentle night
Burn-red sun sets lighting
a world beyond my perch,
then spreads across the sky
turning ribbons of purple - pearl
across Old Sandia Mountaiin
A present just for me!
.
My weathered years settle
to the back of my mind
as teardrops and promises
evaporate into yesterday
.
Sometimes I think I am not home
This simple place,
where earth meets sky
and the creak of my old wicker chair
sings 'One more year'
Then God sends me
this late-day glow
And I know
.
One more year
I know

A Rose, Hiding
 
She is but a rose, hiding
washed in colors, pink
Petals . . .
Amongst Baby's Breath
White
Buried in a garden, deep
Where lovelies do proclaim
their beauty bare
She hides . . .
where none can see
through flowers, bold
Her thorns, small
fragrance , sweet
Hidden, by choice
in the shade of her own
That she may sing
in a gentle voice
for only God to hear

© Copyright, Janet K Brennan.
All Rights Reserved.