Arabesque

 I wrote the first half of this poem this morning and the latter half this evening after a flower-splashed  chatter-and-laughter-busy day...

My morning plan; to see those 'wild orchards' in the distance up close this eve, but rain 'intervened'

Aubade

The bloom that harbors harvest tune fills orchard-rooms with hope

The boon that breaks the bud draws eyes to plush, blush-shrouded slope

Spring’s hour-glass spills flowers to bowers, long bare and grim

Where earth is like a belfry tower chiming nature’s hymn

This place where human race parades their promenade of days

Is so much more than that which panoramic past portrays

Beneath the bending breath that brims with life, man picks a path

And oh, how awesome is the outcome of its aftermath

The hill is like a lap of green where spring has sprung as last

The heart is like a clapping queen because winter is past

The morn is like a newborn, time-worn steppingstone, its course

A season- wending passageway back to Beginning’s source

Nocturne 

Plenty to do with willing hands to do it; what a gift

For we are not to live like little pontoons set adrift

But with hope’s holy hunger passion’s purest purpose prove

Our greatest attribute and offering in life, this; love

Hello, farewell the bell of twilight tolls a tender lay

The skyline is a masterpiece of black on soft rosé

The perpendicularity of hold and letting go

Is like a violinist playing star-strings, sweet and slow

The earth feels lonelier beneath dark vesper-velveteen

Heaven seems nearer now than when the world is blue and green

Away, away the day is shushed into eternity

We clutch at pretty petals fallen from its flower-tree

© Janet Martin