Saturday, May 4, 2013


Languid and low is the sigh of your presence
Ethereal echo of days left behind
Memory, oh, tis a bittersweet essence
Rising and falling upon the night wind

Lilting with laughter and moaning with mourning
Hushed rush of moments quilling the night air
Sweet ever-after; the aureate adorning
Of thought’s tender turmoil; desire, despair

Drenching the darkness with yesterday’s dances
Slow-motion quadrille of passion and pain
Silent and stunning, intangible tempest
Of moments that we know will not pass again

© Janet Martin


  1. I do so enjoy your romantic works. They themselves leave me a memory and a longing for more.

    Good one Janet.

  2. I am glad you picked up on the romantic thread:) Thank-you.


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