by Margaret Jane Jones



If this were my last night on Earth,

I would toss out all troubled thoughts,

And listen with rapt reflection

To the Big Dipper pouring its

Velvet stillness onto the land

As the moon rises-up softly—

A muted gong of polished brass

Near humming stars hung in heaven.


In solitude, I would linger

Here to sing anew the old tunes

Faintly echoing—echoing

With sweet sounds of small delights found

In ten thousand short days lived well—

Loving and striving and thriving.

 I would fill my heart once again

Until the glow of dawn appears—

Ever sooner than expected.

COPYRIGHT© 2010-2012
Margaret Jane Jones.
All Rights Reserved.