Monday, August 23, 2010


Here midnight meets the hint of dawn
Here joys and sorrow spill
This moment joins with memory
It’s aching and its thrill
Prayers of ink are pondered here
Upon this endless stage
Our pen, a feather or a spear
To touch this empty page

Here no man can silence thee
And freedom has no bounds
An eight by ten infinity
Where hope or heartache sounds
Here the lonely teardrop sighs
Here a dream is born
Here fantasy or anguish cries
And memories are torn

Here mans thought is traced in form
And silence bears a voice
Here those who read can ride the storm
By words of soundest choice
There is no far away or near
A universal stage
Where we can ever shed a tear
Upon an empty page

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed by the visit! I welcome and appreciate, if thought you care to speak; the value and the input of compliment or critique