Snatches of September Song...

Happy over halfway-through-September andthe first day of the last week of summerso, slow down and enjoy!! Ps.89:11The heavens are Yours, the earth also is Yours; The world and all its fullness, You have founded them The flowers, as if sensing summer’s impending demiseWith orchestral-like vim, reach for crescendos, no holds barred... As asters, at long last release glimpses of paradiseIn Masterpieces tossed across landscapes, white-purple-starred... The flowers, as if sensing summer’s impending demiseWith orchestral-like vim, reach for crescendos, no holds barredAs asters, at long last release glimpses of paradiseIn Masterpieces tossed across landscapes, white-purple-starredAnd orchard throughfares bustle with brief activityAs ballads of ‘kerplunk’ kindle an ageless, pure delightAs crickets serenade all of beloved humanityFor everyone is precious in their Choir-conductor’s sightThus, we are all beholden to join in as best we canTo worship The Creator of the heavens and the earthTo echo dear old David as He marveledThat He is mindful of us, and grants tasks of sacred worth Goldenrod-tapers gleam along freeways and boulevardsThat wander from the beaten path through rural solitudeThe silver-poplar shimmers, tugging at heartstrings of bardsEvoking poetry, plumbed from scents of summer subduedFrom misty morning meanders, from musky, dusky strollsFrom fields farmers denude; from gardens, spilling final spoilFrom an emerging aura of autumn, rolling through soulsWhere once-upon-sweet-summer’s day we reveled in its toilAtop the tides that tug beneath in Holy Ground of NowTo-everything-a-season and purpose under the sunAs September keens us more closely, to Time’s Scythe somehowAs trees, once green adapt a sheen of hues, not quite begun Devotion/emotion chokes on wonder; ‘what is man’ that God should blessOur neglect of worship, with Beauty’s unplumbed reservesMeeting bold expectation with pear-plum-kissed happinessWith more to thrill awe’s senses than any of us deservesWhile we are drawing nearer to a line we cannot seeFor some of us September will draw one last door ajarFor some of us September will unveil eternityThus, we should all remember God, no matter who we areBefore Time’s silver cord is loosed and its golden bowl breaksBefore September’s embers dim and yield to He who grantsEach apple-dappled, dewdrop-dazzled frond; who gives and takesWho founded every favour of Divine Extravagance Corn-rows arrange a symphony of whispers, like a toastTo butterflies bobbing beneath heaven’s boundless blue swellHarvest, hope’s culmination humbles calloused, mortal boastAs mercy, new each morning twirls September’s carouselAs nostrils fill with nuances of nature’s fine vermouthAs we consider God, and love’s divine extravaganceAs we learn how to worship Him in spirit and in truthAs September unveils a smorgasbord of evidenceAs we, agape, witness the One whose Sovereign order rulesWhere through worlds clearly seen even a child can understandAs Innocence, immune to the pitiful plight of foolsCatches snatches of music from September’s beaming band Janet Martin Meeting bold expectation with pear-plum-kissed happiness... As nostrils fill with nuances of nature’s fine vermouth... ...like a toastTo butterflies bobbing beneath heaven’s boundless blue swell Harvest, hope’s culmination humbles calloused, mortal boast...