Showing posts with label blue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blue. Show all posts

Friday, November 19, 2021

November Blues...




Aha! I said this morning.
So THAT'S what was in yester-dusk's transfixing hues of blue!





November blues offset the hues of nature’s sparser clime
To wake within the heart a grin akin to joy bell’s chime
To draw our eyes beyond the rise and fall of season-surf
And feel the toll of transience roll across surrendered turf

I think the poet’s ink is siphoned from November blues
A welkin well where whispers swell and syllable subdues
A brooding deep above a sweep of sentenced green-gold-gray
A sacred sense of an immense changeover under way

November blues thunder with dues we cannot keep at bay
Where woodland throbs with muffled sobs of leaf-song snuffed away
Barren limbs stark against the early dark of Autumn dusk
As nature sets its silhouettes on backdrops, blue and brusque

November blues; who can refuse the sentimental *rush
Of lowered skies authoring sighs of awe beneath a brush
That drips with hues of smold'ring blues that steals our breath and gaze
As Artist spills a storm of thrills from fall's more muted trays 
 
November blues unfetter hues of frigid, downy-white
Where on the morn the heart is torn twixt dismay and delight
A strange tableau, transformed by snow, yester-ago far-swept
Where blue unfurled a wonderworld of winter while we slept


© Janet Martin


* yes, I mean rush (not crush)
unlike Grandsonny yesterday morning
announcing to his mom that
'I got a big rush on Millie'
 (name changed for privacy sake)😂
His mother assumes someone must have
used the word 'crush'😄😘


Sigh...'I suppose it's not so-o bad' acquiesced Victoria
(a fellow-November blues lover)
gazing out to the serene snow-globe scene





Monday, November 28, 2016

Splendor-tender November Goodnight



Victoria and I share a deep love for November. 
We are always a little sad to see it go...
Two more days to dance to its moody blues!

 Tonight is thick with the sound of silence...

Sere fields, like still-life banners lie
Hinged to low bars of steely sky
Bare trees, like transfixed sentinels
Stand motionless on hills, in dells
The beds of earth are stark and brown
Waiting for spreads of eiderdown

The wind broods, hollow and forlorn
The woods are dark and shadow-torn
Where lilt of leaf has lost its vim
And lies beneath the tuneless limb
Late day splays solemn like a dirge
As afternoon and twilight merge

The plush rush on dusk’s avenue
 Is veiled in velvet navy blue
As skyline embers guide spent souls
Toward sweet, tender homespun goals
Of bread to break and tea to pour
Of laughter-gentled dinner-hour

Somewhere the air is full of gold
As morning breaks night’s aerial hold
But here the hand of eventide
Gathers November’s countryside
In shrouds of plush deep, purple-blue
As this Today is tucked from view

© Janet Martin

Some good tuck-the-day-away music by Celtic Thunder



Thursday, April 14, 2016

Hues of Blues...






She comes by it honestly
Her love of blues
In sundry hues
Of sky and sax
Flowing through
And filling in
The gaps caused by
All that love lacks

© Janet Martin

Friday, December 4, 2015

December Eyes





Mesmerized by true blue eyes
And brooding sighs; December skies
Tossed with free will beneath the hill
Where still and sleek, the river lies

And I am wont to drink the taunt
Of brook-fern haunt; unlearned, the vaunt
Of wanderlust where this I must;
Trample lanes laced with diamond dust

For soon staid sweep of deep to deep
Will lie asleep ‘neath snow-crowned keep
Then I will bide its eventide
In company of fireside

So captivated, I must go
To touch and taste the ebbing flow
Of lonely skies and brooding sighs
Mesmerized by December eyes

© Janet Martin


Emily of New Moon called it a 'flash'.
I call it a rush...
that inspires instant poetry!

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

The Blue of Time's Candor



(click on images to enlarge)

The blue of Time’s candor, like moody fall splendor
Sweeps in from without yet seeps out from within
It courts hurried hours and flings wide-eyed flowers
Into bygone’s bowers of gossamer skin

The blue of Time’s candor compels us to wander
Where summer-set settles, three seasons away
Each leaf, like a pencil, each stem like a poised quill
Spills sun-tattered verses of death and decay

The blue of time’s candor rolls through gated pasture
Its waves washing heart-ward with echo and whim
An ethereal ocean rises in slow-motion
It ravages laughter and landscape and limb

Time’s blue traipses over rose-rivers of clover
It unravels rainbows; blue will have its way
As sun-warm reflection dons cooler complexion
And blue of time’s candor turns gold silver-gray

© Janet Martin