Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Get-away




It’s  like reading poetry,
 presumptuous feeling
 I drift surreal
on the arms of the autumn wind
with nothing to restrain my mind
relying fully
on a few gaudy synthetic bubbles
and poetry
to carry me over
a world of dwarfed troubles,
a canopy of roof-tops
of pasture and sea
sprawled in a patch-work quilt
far, far beneath me

It’s so quiet here….

Mo-o-o-o-m!
Where’s my hat?
Jolt!
Bump!
Reality!

Janet Martin

6 comments:

  1. Janet this is amazing....you captured the poem and the poet here....lovely writing indeed!
    :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Carrie, I admire and am moved by every poem you write. I thank you for your kind words.

    ReplyDelete
  3. That is the problem with a poet's life. Reality keeps intruding.

    ReplyDelete
  4. gotta love that reality! there's a lot of it happening around here right now.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!