Of a Saturday

Ladybird and Moonchild are about to have a regular brinner-feast. She is getting Gavin ready for bed now, and I have just finished a bit of washing up. When he's sound asleep, and the acorn squash is out of the oven, we will toast some bread and cheese, fry some sausages, brew a pot of tea and settle down to a long and satisfying brinner. After that comes miniature chocolate pudding tarts and gingerbread bundt cakes. After all, it's not every Saturday that Mama and Daddy head off on an anniversary date!

Little Things

It is golden, here on the hilltop,

Watching the sun-sweet day

Of the valley age in a splendor

Of fading loveliness--filled with

Smooth earth, crinkled leaves, twisted hay.

Rajah and Czar are looking too,

Both as alert to the tiny signs

Of a mouse chase as I am

To the beauty of an October evening,

 To the balm of apricot-scented wind and sticky pines.

The light over the friendly valley

Is so gentle, breathing its soft words

Over rooted mountains and straight,

Slim grasses erect in taught comfort,

Slipping small bright seeds to the birds.

The moon, coyly glowing her silver

Smile, rises in the dim, intricate

Coolness of the muscled oak boughs,

She is an evening soul in palest crepe.

Perfect before violet skies, still lit.

F. M. G.