I had a few people tease me a little this week-end about how
"oops, Janet's likely thinking of a poem!"
It's strange but that is not really how this poem-thing works.
At least, not as easily as I wish it would!
The poem-press has a strange mechanics/mind of its own!
but that being said,okay, it's fair...
my being teased that anything you say-do-are
might be used in a poem!
So please accept my no-apologies! 😏
It's back!! ...'the plush rush of a breeze that sounds like water-fall in trees...
Would you accept my modest ‘please?’
And shameless ‘no apologies’
For being drawn (both hand and heart)
By a palette of poem-art
By the plush rush of a breeze
That sounds like water-fall in trees
By the murmur of an afternoon
That always steals summer too soon
By how love’s walk-talk-grin-tease-wink
Keens commonness with poem-ink
By how nothing is quite as it seems
Where a world of near-poetry teems
And I am dearly blessed and cursed
By being want-of-word immersed
And yes…you, my dear, might kindly be
Immortalized in poetry
Because something you kindled stirred
The spark that strikes the poem-chord
And mustered from nothing at all
The music of a madrigal
Because (p-s-s-s-t, just between you and I)
A poem-well cannot run dry
As long as there are blooms and birds
And tots learning to pronounce words
And seasons stunning us with sheaves
Where we, torn twixt Time’s trusts and thieves
Learn to hold on while letting go
As long as there is sun on snow
Or stars on late-afternoon lakes
Or joy-bursts when we have what it takes
By the grace of God, to keep keeping on
As long as there is dusk and dawn
Or you and I, not yet sight-blind
Moved by moments soon left behind
Where an ocean of ages cries and laughs
With pages of unpenned paragraphs
I ask, will you accept my ‘please?’
And shameless no apologies
For attempting now and then
To snare star-surges in a pen
And ponder into poetry
A piece of what will never be
© Janet Martin