Showing posts with label July. Show all posts
Showing posts with label July. Show all posts

Thursday, July 28, 2022

Mist-kissed Flower

This poem is a bit of bittersweet longing
 for the days/ 'mist' of July; 
a month that always seems to vanish too fast!

James 4:14
What is your life? 
You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.


Psalm 103:15-16

As for man, his days are like grass—
he blooms like a flower of the field;
16when the wind passes over, it vanishes,
and its place remembers it no more.



Sweet day, you wend your way through thought and touch to disappear
The sparkle of your subtle shuttle weaving yester-year

Like ripples on a lake of laughter; longing-hold-let go
Where echelons of ever-after ever ebb and flow

It makes life feel a little like a dreamland made of mist
A little like a spectacle of echoes/roses to untwist

Dawn spills and fills dusk’s purple tray with latest live-and-learn
Where always, sweet today, you wend your way to No Return

…only to reappear, my dear, as new as new can be
To weave fresh wisps of smile-and-tear/dust veneer into a memory

Bruised bliss, This; being brave enough to kiss your hands and feet
And dance with you, sweet day; for love is always bittersweet

…sometimes I get the sense of you soft-slipping from my touch
And sometimes then, I wish I didn’t love you quite so much

Sweet day, you spill your hour to a bower of Back When
Like petals from a flower that will never bloom again

© Janet Martin


I'm off to spend a sweet day among hollyhocks, green beans, tomatoes aka Garden😊





Saturday, July 2, 2022

It Is July

 Happy, happy July!

Our first day of July was a perfect blend of busyness and beauty...

(I have been asked more than once if, for all the pictures I take
'don't I want to invest in a nicer, bigger camera?'
Part of me would like to but I need something that fits into a pocket
so work and captured moments like yesterday's, won't conflict😅💗)



oops! spills will happen!




It is July
The month of sapphire sky and flaxen wheat
A pleasant place to slow the pace of labor and bare feet
The garden grins as it begins to burst with bounty where
Not long ago a world of snow and dreams teased our stare

It is July
The month when lazy breezes loll and sigh
And lure us 'neath the lofty wreath of leafy lullaby
Sweet summer days, thy love song plays in every flower bell
As thankfulness and happiness in perfect kinship dwell/swell

It is July
Time’s ode to butterfly and hummingbird
The heady woo as scent of dust and dew thrill senses stirred
Where sprinklers lilt with sparkles spilt and lobbed against the sky
Where children run and everyone is younger in July

It is July
Work and play vie for front and center stage
So much to touch and taste before time’s tried haste turns the page
No joy is common in July; each heat-sweet summons, pure
Each day a gift soon set adrift where morning casts its lure

It is July
Shadow quilts lie in wait for picnics, books
Impetuous hiatuses from duty’s rigid looks
Ah, we are summer glad. So glad. Sun sizzles in the sky
Zinnia buds pop. Fat rain drops plop. We laugh. It is July

© Janet Martin

...and a picture perfect wedding day!
(happening this afternoon!)
The 'little girl next door' is no more!
Today she is a beautiful bride!



Saturday, January 15, 2022

Mid-Winter Mid-Summer Stroll

Happy Halfway through January. Already?!!

This poem was first inspired by yesterday's sunshine 
pouring through the flowering maple
at the back door...




Let’s pretend it’s mid-July
Sprawl beneath the sun-stoked sky
Let’s pretend a butterfly
Flitting plume to plume
Let’s pretend a garden path
Warm with winter’s aftermath
Fringed with ardent autograph
Of sunflow’rs in bloom

Let’s pretend pink lemonade
Blankets tossed on pools of shade
Cricket and leaf serenade
Backyard getaway
Book and hammock luxury
Picnic basket poetry
Bare foot banter fancy-free
Winter f-a-a-r away

Let’s pretend end of a dock
Sunsets after nine o’ clock
Nose to nose with hollyhock
Hello, honey-bee
Let’s pretend bright greens and golds
Where the countryside unfolds
Hill and hollow wonder-wolds
Far as eye can see

Let’s pretend a summer stroll
On the beach where sea-songs roll
Over feet and through the soul
Weather forecast, hot
Let’s pretend its mid-July
Lounge beneath its sapphire sky
Kick off shoes and…b-r-r-r! oh my!
On second thought, let’s not!

© Janet Martin






Saturday, July 31, 2021

Almost August...

 'Where harvest fields surrender yields that capture heart and eye'


'In the sheen of sunflowers beaming from sage-bristled stalks'


'Where gardens grin and we begin to gather in toil’s laud'


Its almost August; month of age-old accolades renewed
Where morning, ripe with golden sun highlights sweeps silver-dewed
Where harvest fields surrender yields that capture heart and eye
As crickets start to serenade the ending of July

It’s almost August; beauty-tones delight the commonplace
In purple loosestrife, chicory, yarrow and Queen Ann’s lace
Where gardens grin and we begin to gather in toil’s laud
As fruit and flower melodies spill through our touch to God

It’s almost August; heartstrings get tangled in hollyhocks
In the sheen of sunflowers beaming from sage-bristled stalks
In the keening awareness in each honey-suckle bloom
Of moments weaving echoes from the threads of summer’s loom

It’s almost August; hummingbirds and honey-bees abound
We take off shoes to stir the dust and dew of holy ground
To revel in the bevel of a bowl tipped upside down
To showcase blue, blue eons on a cloud-disheveled crown

It’s almost August; weep not for the parting but give thanks
For bloom-embellished garden paths and lily-laden banks
For arms we cannot see that draw and sweep us off our feet
As wonder and desire meet in tangos, bittersweet

It’s almost August; farewell, farewell, my darling chérie
My sweet July, we cannot keep at bay time’s surging sea
But, come what may, of August’s day, July's memories made
Are gathered in a coffer no hand of time can invade

© Janet Martin





Tuesday, July 6, 2021

Welcome July


Rather than panic that sweet July will fly by too fast
Time is teaching me to soak in every sacred moment cast
Like a lure at the end of a fisherman's rod
To get hooked, lined and sinker-ed by the artwork of God







Welcome, sweet, sweltering July
You spread your grin across the sky
While we, beneath its boundless blue
Drink in the ink of dust and dew
And barely want to sleep because
Of how soon you turn into Was
Thus, we cannot afford to miss
One iota of summer-bliss
One meadow full of Queen Ann’s lace
One very fine excuse to chase
Time down lanes fringed with filigree
Of chamomile and chicory

Welcome, jubilee of July
Happiness is a butterfly
A gaudy stalk of holly-hock
An afternoon without a clock
A symphony of cold, iced-tea
Or teal sea-song, flung fancy free
‘cross smiles and miles of glossy sand
Where at last the sea meets the land
That sheds its green for sheen of gold
That tugs at something none can hold
But rushes, gushes, blushes through
An orange-lily lavished flue

Welcome, patina of July
Of mist-kissed morn soon sizzled dry
Of haunts we seek with roofs, leaf spun
To hide from the big yellow sun
Of pools and ponds resounding splash
Of purple popsicle mustache
Of moms and dads, half-holidayed
While childhood memories are made
Of baskets bearing garden gifts
While moments merge and summer drifts
Through glasses filled with a parade
Of berry-garnished lemonade

Welcome, wander-land of July
Where wild-grass strums a lullaby
While we permit ourselves to sit
And daydream for a longer bit
Because we know how moments flow
From holding on to letting go
How, afternoon to afternoon
Didst curb the blurb of May to June
Of lilac-froth and blossom snow
Into a surging undertow
That melds without noisy fanfare
Into an ocean of thin air

Welcome, twinkle we call July
Of corn-fields reaching for the sky
Of zinnia-fireworks that spill
A petal-rainbow’s timeless thrill
Of sprinklers tossing diamonds wild
Around the dazzle-smitten child
Of early dawn and tardy dusk
And senses steeped in daisy-musk
Where Time gleams like a painting hung
Entitled When the World Was Young

Welcome, welcome, darling July
Where poets purge and wheat fields sigh 
Where foliage flaunts both hip-hooray
And bug and blight induced dismay
Where finches flit-flirt-squabble-tweet
Where briefly, earth and heaven meet
Where we aboard a barge of days
Are drifting t'ward a violet haze
That separates present and past
Where we make history far too fast
While we are learning how to fall
Hook, line and sinker through it all 

© Janet Martin


Friday, July 17, 2020

Delightfully Defeated


 This poem began on what was going to be a quick walk home from the mechanic,
just a few country-lanes away, but
turned into a stroll of sweet summer-seduction






You win I say to the blade of grass all liquid-glass bejeweled
You win I say to the lily-lamp by quadrillion sun-watts fueled
You win I whisper to Queen Ann’s Lace that gilds the field of wheat
You win I sigh to the upturned face of any bloom I meet
To the bird that tweets from the lofty sheaf
To the herd that grazes on thistle and twitch
To the sun-ray snared on a rim of leaf
To manifold marvels that charm and bewitch

You win I say to the dirt-road-lure that dangles from the sky
You win I say to the curl of vine that tangles with my sigh
You win I whisper to freckled grins and cherub-chubby cheeks
You win I laugh to love’s Autograph where brand new morning breaks
To the hummingbird as it hover and darts
To the undeterred wonder of bud to bloom
To July’s invincible thief of hearts
To the curious mechanics of the spud-loom

You win I say to the hollyhock stalk dressed in pretty pink
You win I say to the way a day can spill oceans of ink
You win I cede to the russet reed drinking the shallows dry
You win, I admit to the butterfly, cloud-schooners drifting by
To hazy, lazy afternoon rain
To the daisy; he/she loves me, loves me not
To the waves that wash through a field of grain
To wishes come true in a vegetable-plot

You win I say to the clay pot hosting sprig of lavender
You win I say to the rain-drop mirroring in miniature
You win I whisper to translucent leaf splayed against the sun
You win I weep where lyrics hound until a poem is spun
You win, you win, yes, you win, and you win,
I say to sweet summer’s splendour of the earth
You win, you win, yes and you win again
As another hymn of sheer gladness gives birth

© Janet Martin




Monday, July 13, 2020

Ode to July


 Canadian July leaves little to complain about 
except maybe sometimes it's too quick!







Mist-mellow ambience, yellow and blue
Aura of romance amidst much to do
Ditch-garden-meadow a billow of bloom
Sun-shadow willow-harps serenade noon
Something ‘bout July evokes surf-like roars
Rushing, receding across heart-cupped shores

Sense of sabbatical sweetens tick-tock
Lavishes looking with pink hollyhock
Tunes untamed tempos with flower-full fronds
Tickles the wheat field from sea-green to bronze
Something ‘bout July rouses with each morn
Joy for life’s roses in spite of the thorn

See how the countryside spills grand tableaus
See how the Artist awes us with His prose
See, nature’s nuances never grow old
Sparking and soothing the sigh of the soul
Something ‘bout July feels like heaven’s poem
Something ‘bout July feels like coming home

Hello, Queen Ann, your lace-looms whir on queue
Chicory-fringe, we’ve come to expect you
Hello, white chamomile, how do you grow
Heaped along roadsides like summery snow
Something ‘bout July makes gladness complete
Clap of the screen door and slap of bare feet

Sunflowers flower before the bud breaks
Bachelor buttons spill little blue lakes
Salvia-fountain is ready to burst
Hummingbird hovers to quench nectar thirst
Something ‘bout July bids us to behold
That which is filling morrow’s echo-mold

Loveliness leaps like a hymn from earth’s heart
Happiness laughs; what is man to bear part
Of such a melody Mercy composed
Glimpses of Gloryland still unexposed
Something ‘bout July beckons yet fulfills
Making each day a succession of thrills

© Janet Martin

To blog-readers only.
I don't share all my poetry on Facebook but I did link this one to FB
with this remark.
 Why?!!why-why-why?!!! asks my better half when he asked what I'm writing about...
and I'm not sure what to say other than because it just has to be...


Tuesday, July 7, 2020

July Origami







I have been found wanting
Where the blossom drips
Where hope and uncertainty
Kindles fellowships
Where the wind lies dormant
On a summer’s morn
Where the death of one day leads
To another born
Where the land is folded
From first green to gold
July origami
Subtle and yet bold
Where wow’s wave of wonder
Flares, then fades beneath
Fragile colour-thunder
Stealing our breath
Crimping with deft fingers
That which will become
From this present shimmer
Past’s momentous sum
Where the sail of summer
Hoists a fresh ahoy
I have been found wanting
While I weep for joy


© Janet Martin