A Bit of November-Dusk Nostalgia

When the day is being tucked beneath November-blue flannel,

 when Grandson begins to 'wonder'

 when the birds snag an early supper,

 While we make muffins,

then supper, to a backdrop of Kenny G Christmas, well,

 ...it calls for Something, like slowly-savoured Poem

 (BTW, a poem is enjoyed much like a dessert, slowly, one bite/serving at a time😋)

Over the hills an anthem bleeds

To soothe earth’s fallow scars

A capella of ragged reeds

Tunes echo-tempered bars

The barge of afternoon is drawn

Across a phantom sea

To moor where no one can return

Save in fond reverie

...where poplar-coppice, shimmers-quiv-

ers, silver in the sun

Where tide of Time glimmers, shivers

Where season-rivers run

...where sky is like a belvedere

Its terrace, smoky blue

We climb a flight of yesteryear

To marvel at the view

…and listen to a heart-shaped hymn

That falls through smile-wreathed tears

As swift and soft the shadows dim

And the world disappears

© Janet Martin

November Dusk Nocturne

 It's been a dark November so far...weather-wise and news-wise!

So many senseless shootings! So much Sorrow!

Sight slips from windows where early dark seeps

Through scraggly branches devoid of their tune

Earth is a stage where its celloist sleeps

Gone is the crooner of sunny high noon

Farewell feels firmer beneath the dark moon

Destiny hovers beyond the black veil

Felling the vistas we know but now guess

Hush-a-bye, clover and wild-lupine grail

Pouring impressions upon thought’s caress  

Like hills that ache in naked loneliness

Smiles can grow brittle with too little sun

Whiles can seem longer after gathered sheaf

Darling, a doggerel leaps where a gun

Severs a life from the limb like a leaf

Leaving the mean-whiles of Love rocked with grief

Sometimes seduction maneuvers the mind

Making us willing to yield to the Taunt

Better to think twice; not leap hunger-blind

Into the arms of impetuous Want

Consequence writes with a resolute font

Sight slips from windows where dusk’s early dark

Seeps through stark branches in gossamer flow

Somehow the music-man has lost his spark

Gone is the lullaby of leaf and bough

All that remains is a whisper of snow

© Janet Martin

 

Vesper...

I snagged a few pics from the front porch because it did not work to dash up the road tonight to get a better view, (due to getting home and quickly packing up hubby's supplies so he could leave... )

On westward shore to evermore the floor of heaven’s threshold gleams

And gathers from the sum of moments that which fueled yester’s dreams

And as the light of day grows dim farewell’s requiem tolls like a bell

It trembles in this cage of skin where soft the silent shadows fell

Then faded into blue on blue until the only thing we see

Are stars on stars on black on black and me with you and you with me

…and sometimes we feel caught between the love of what we have and hope

Where what we had slipped from our hands like the sun slips from far west’s slope

And fingers warm with what they held reach toward what yet waits to fill

The fond farewells that do not tell just how or what echoes will spill

Where the tree etched against pink air captures our gaze then disappears

Like a snuffed blaze into the haze that turns todays to yester-years

The moon lies like a glimmer on a listless lake of ebony

Today glints like a shimmer on the ageless page of memory

© Janet Martin

Nocturne

Soft as thistle-down the hour

Like a bitty butterfly

Like the petal of a flower

Like the tremor of a sigh

Like the flicker of a candle

Like the shiver of a breeze

Tips its teeny hat, unravels

Leaving only memories

 

Soft as silver mist the twilight

Gathers to its phantom fold

Frameworks filled with almost-midnight

Caskets filled with gray and gold

Where the dark is like an ocean

Slowly rolling toward shore

Until intangible motion

Swallows up what is no more

© Janet Martin