Showing posts with label Sasha Palmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sasha Palmer. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Sugar-drops...and Happy Birthday, Sasha



Happy Birthday, Sasha!
 Wow, has it been a year since this post?!!
Thank-you for sharing a love for all things garden and poem, and
Thank-you as always for countless words of encouragement, appreciation and understanding!
Prayers for God to bless and keep you and yours in the year ahead.
Birthday hugs and best wishes from your Canuck Garden/Poet Friend, Janet

Bittersweet, the 'dismantling'  of the flower garden yesterday 
because I needed to salvage the dahlia-bulbs while they were still dry!
 Today's rainy morning aftermath...
But we attempt to catch gardens in bowls...
...and soon we will catch what is in the bowl to patch a hole in some heart-art...
Everything is but a season


Like drips of ice-cream from a cone
We lick Time’s sugar-drops; they melt
Summer-swift sweetness, here then gone
Save for the happiness we felt

Like flower-hour’s paradise
With hungry eyes we linger where
We know its petal-show soon lies
Midst sighs of how happy we were

Like snowflakes caught upon the tongue
Time’s easy-come-and-go dissolves
White whispers, once wishful and young
Fall prey to Fore-fathered resolves

And we are where we are Today
But not for long, this sparkle-splash
Teaches us to prize each hooray
Before full color turns to ash

Look, where we are will soon be like
Summer time in a picture-book
Where on some winter-whispery night
We’ll turn fond pages back to look

...at pictures of right where we are
And we’ll recall how blessed we felt
With glints of goodness from a jar
That taste like sugar-drops, then melt…

© Janet Martin



Thursday, December 17, 2015

Italics and Ellipses...

Inspired by this post and this book...


(from Emily Climbs)


The do’s and don’t
Of using these
Are rigid,
I suppose
But who is quite immune to them?
Their where and when,
Who knows?


Ink-impression impresses us
At varied intervals
And sometimes ellipses evoke
…unwritten syllables
And sometimes italics suggest
Something sentimental
Impacting with strange squiggliness
What words cannot quite tell


© Janet Martin

I couldn’t help but chuckle at this post, esp. because Emily of New Moon (the series of books I’m reading) loved to use italics and every teacher said ‘Don’t’.
…and I am learning so much from her teachers :)



Friday, December 11, 2015

Mad With Joy

Inspired by Sasha's post here




Write then,
Go; mad with joy of newborn day,
Or pup
Of lithesome grin of lad,
Of fresh-mown hay
Drink up
This cup where its air runs, rife
With un-penned poetry
And life is far too small to bear
In silent agony

So, write then
Mad with bliss, let life kiss you full
On the lips
Ere it slips to oblivion
Gossamer, an
Eclipse
Of moment over moment, lost
To past’s eternity
Of sad joy never madly snared
And bared in Poetry

© Janet Martin