Poetry

Click images to enlarge...

 It's in the clutter and mess, not sterile tidiness, that memories are made...That reminds me; I noticed a coffee spill on the stairs where someone dashed to see if Canada scored;) In spite of Canada's win  Slovak goaltender Denis Godla was unbelievable!!

Dear Life, (or is it Dear Me?)

If I would study you too long

And hard then you would never be

Quite fit enough to hang upon

Time’s wizened walls of

Poetry

For scrutiny reveals your flaws

Then fear would be the death of me

And I would never write because

I’d pity you in

Poetry

Once flesh and bones, old poets dipped

Their quills into your heart-shaped sea

Braving the tide as soul-blood dripped

From fingertips to

Poetry

For imperfection is the grace

Whereby a poet is set free

To humbly, reverently trace

Life’s love-lined face in

Poetry

© Janet Martin

Off to the music that makes the poetry that makes the memories…or, is it the memories that make the poetry that makes the music...;-)?