The Grass Withers

The grass withers, the flower fades,But the word of our God stands forever.”Isa.40:8 This verse inspired today's poem,started at 7:00 a.m.Why is it not getting posted till after 6:00 p.m.?Well, before I was quite finished with it tot # 1 arrivedand was delighted to help with some chores connected with yesterday's garden-purge!First job. Prep Swiss chard for freezing.I cut off the leaves and he put the stalks in a pail... Then tot # 2 arrived excited to peel beets!Tot #1 politely declined to help with this very purple task😅 Victoria is taking roasted veg to a supper potluck. When I looked for the pan, I remembered it's in the oven with a batch of granolaI put in along with lunch prep! 😅😐In the spring I was the happy recipient of an air fryerwon at a stag and doe!Today I used it for the first time, to cook our lunch! fries and chicken fingers for tots then squash for my lunch!and I am in the processof trying to give it a permanent home on my already full countertop... because the squash was PERFECT with 2 tsp. of olive oiland seasoning and a drizzle of maple syrup! Can't wait to try all the recipes in the book! Next? Cabbage steak! ...back to the potluck!The girl who was going to bring pie for dessert isn't feeling wellso suddenly in the midst of veg-eruption...pie! now the tots have gone homeafter some baby grandson cuddles, of course!!Potluck food is on its way.(insert lol!) This evening I will pickle the beets... and chop and stir-fry the Swiss chard to freeze for soups etc.make a quick batch of tomato soup with the last of the tomatoes oh! Yes, there was a poem on the back burner!Now, do you understand the delay?! The grass, it withersThe flowers, they fade... The wind, it winnowsThe tree of its shade... The grass, it withersThe flowers, they fadeThe wind, it winnowsThe tree of its shadeThe garden is quietIts rush hour throughWhere once a riotOf seed splendor grew The orchard’s glimmerOf garnet and goldWanes before winterTurns corridors coldBefore the hustleOf gales sweeps its hallsWhere footsteps rustleWhere leaf-lyric falls Where children frolicAnd chatter and playBefore time’s musicDraws childhood awayBefore they weatherThe surge of a seaLight as a featherYet wild as can be The golden lusterOf leaf ambiencePales in the blusterThat blows out its lampsLeaving the streets ofAutumn softly strewnWith remnant glints ofSummer’s afternoon © Janet Martin