Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Sunset Cradle...

Jasmine, demons, window, scrap, ample, montage,
Flawed, granite, trapped, whistle, domain, sunset

This old table in the west window
cradled her sunsets for nigh fifty years
A montage of memories tuned by the whistle
of a January gale trapped on the outside
suddenly arouses pictures of a surface
cluttered with quilt scraps
or potted red geraniums
or perhaps in October 
a granite bowl of gleaming apples
much to eager, rosy cheeked children's delight
Flawed realities have been perfected by the forgiveness of time
No one ever questioned its domain
there, in the west window the old table and an old chair reigned
as from its visage-point jasmine rivers crawled white in June
and demons wandered black on a night with no moon
But history’s ample lap cannot preserve it
as the auctioneer shouts…what am I bid?
Who’ll give me ten? Let me throw in a chair

Ah, yes…. That chair where…
 The bitter sweetness of sunset years washes her face

© Janet Martin


  1. Very well wordled, Janet! Good use of the words!

  2. I enjoy the thought of History being Ample. Nicely wordled. I've a few older pieces in my home...not enough to my liking...but enough just the same (not for sale!) :)
    My shorter entry 'Crust' is here with a link at the bottom to my first entry which continues my latest series...if you are interested:


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