Friday, November 4, 2016

Victor of the Spills or Truth-teller

You roar,
spill chill through new chinks in my shield
(How true Truth is)
on the soft brow of untried ideals
You place your kiss
And sooner then,
rather than later, too
Each victim victor earns
Through lessons learned,
the yearning sting of you
And your no returns

© Janet Martin


  1. What a great photo, Janet. Two beautiful girls.

    1. Thank-you. you are kind.
      I honestly for my sake did NOT want to post it but, she and I spend a lot of time together and thus is the inspiration for this type of train of thought:)

    2. I meant it. I see you've got your 'stroll through the autumn woods' buddy :)

    3. Thank-you:) Yes!!! I don't know what I'd do without her,and she goes into totally the same woods-mood that I do...quietly awed except to point out things like 'oh, look up at the cedar-branches holding fallen leaves' or bending down to study the scroll work of nature on a fallen log. For a while we might just sit and listen to the silence.

    4.'s a precious 'pause on the edge of the nest before she flies' so I do not take these days for granted.


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