Wednesday, January 20, 2016

January-land





Time rushes through you like blue ribbon unfurled
Your field blooms white, spiked with sparse, spectral tree
A moonlit night strung twixt reality
And hunger’s Barmecidal Other World

You are a feather that wafts hither-yon
Soft as the snowflake on guttural gale
Leaving no footprints you wander the pale
Ghost-colored gardens of sepulchral dawn

You gild earth’s coat with heaven’s falling stars
Your laughter sparkles and covers her girth
With diamonds and broken glass slippers; your mirth
Runs over silent, soldered river-bars

Quietness quivers, your fingers incite
Shivers, strain from a beggar’s violin
Steals our breath like ice-kisses on skin
Cold Casanova, you vex yet delight

…where Time rushes through you; a wild blue strand
Borne on the breath of a white afternoon
 Glimmering heath beneath gold wreath of moon
Blustering ballad, January-land

© Janet Martin



  Can you believe it?! 
There are only ten more days left of the first month of 2016!
Didn't we just do this?!


2 comments:

  1. a perfect poem to read on these snow-glowy moombeamed nights.
    Plus i like the new word - rolls richly (or seemingly so, at least!) on the the palate.

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    Replies
    1. he-he:)thank-you.

      first I was thinking about something like 'wonder at winter-land' instead of 'a winter wonderland' but that combo was not co-operating syllable-wise when the new word sort of rolled itself out of nowhere! :)

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