Tower of Courage

There really are no words to fully capture the hurt of a sorrowing mother
aching for a child that is no more...

Other mothers hug her close

then return home to hug their beloved family closer... longer.

Loss...the flip-side of having held!

She bows where death has redefined

Love-sorrow-strength soft intertwined

And in her eyes the tender hurt

For one which lies beneath the dirt

Where none but God tallies her tears

That kiss the sod of yester-years

…she bows beneath yet holds the hand

Of He who helps her feet to stand

Where nothing can restore the dreams

That death has claimed too soon it seems

As through a power, not her own

She finds the courage to press on

© Janet Martin

(The word she in this poem can be changed to 'he')
this is not intended to undermine a father's sorrow
but, because I'm a mom I see through the eyes of a mother.

Dear Jordan Spieth...(and the rest of us too)

 Jordan, we are so proud of the way you handled, under the scrutiny of millions of eyes,
a huge life-disappointment!

What to do…

The day is new

And you and I

Are privy to

Its moments, oh,

They fall like snow

And melt into

Time’s come-and-go

While we employ

Heartbreak and joy

And all the noise

That goes with it

Of win and loss

The albatross

To those of us

Who dare not quit

© Janet Martin

A year ago, celebration...

...this year, heartbreak! 

...And Then It Fades Away

 I took these pics off the TV screen so they're not that good...I always feel incredibly happy for the winner of a competition and incredibly sympathetic to the disappointment of the 'almost winner'! Congratulations Bubba! and we will see you next year, Jordan. what a day at the MASTERS!

…and then it fades away

The screen of twilight dark and deep

Where both triumph and heart-break sleep

In Past’s Immortal Day

That pinnacle of bliss

Where grit and glory coalesce

Soon falls beneath the burnished tress

Of Bygone’s faded kiss

Life’s bitter loss and tear

As dreams die on hope’s gilded green

Amalgamates upon a screen

Of middle-night and yester-year

A blend of gold and gray;

On one hand joy, the other grief

A moment free-fall from Time’s sheaf

…and then it fades away

©Janet Martin

In an interview tonight they asked  Ted Scott, Bubba's caddy 'what next?' he replied  'its a little soon to think about that but he knows he's going to bed tonight to sleep and tomorrow morning we begin another day...' Isn't that what we all do? Triumph or disappointment, we go to bed and begin again in the morning!

Of Beggar and King...

On such a night as this I should be glad

And so I am; but love can be so cruel

As solitude unravels from a spool

Where memories both thrill and make me sad…

The want of what is not could drive me mad

On such a night as this thought is a thief

Stealing from garden’s of repose, its bloom

I hold it to my cheek; thought can’t exhume

What Time has buried in its swollen sheaf

We gather but to yield love’s joy and grief

On such a night I would not change a thing

For dearer than love’s smile must be its tear

And Time is but the tenure of a year

Where no one is immune to its keen sting

Of being both a beggar and a king

 Janet Martin

The Gift of What Used to Be...

 

When loved ones have stepped far beyond our touch

We hold within our hearts their memory

And though we miss them and love them so much

We cherish the gift of what used to be

© Janet Martin~

Thank-you TUG, for inspiring these thoughts and reminders.

I Feel Your Lips Smile

I feel your lips smile softly in the dark

The quiet swells; an ocean without form

I rest my head where retrospect is warm

A summer’s eve as autumn’s stance grows stark

The surge of centuries claims one more day

October sheds her final farewell leaf

Her shoulders droop; fall’s lithesome dance is brief

And leaf by leaf her garment drifts away

The darkness cannot shield the thought of you

A thousand midnights cannot seal your sigh

I crawl to kiss October’s feet good-bye

She fades across a field of frosted dew

The echo of her past rides on the breeze

I hold it fast in ageless memories

***

Is there an antidote for loneliness?

And is it found within a crowded crowd?

Where images are wearying and loud?

The night is kinder in its wantonness

I lean into its still, somber embrace

Its solace is both friend and enemy

Exposing both the best and worst of me

I feel your lips smile, soft against my face

A soul-mate comprehends unuttered thought

Spilling into night’s deep and onyx hole

As we exchange the language of the soul

Not chained in word or shared in ink-formed jot

But rendered to each other part by part

As we converse in whispers of the heart

***

The by and by of summer’s twilight waits

Even for deviant poets such as us

The noise of plebeian masses fume and fuss

October’s farewell tolls and dissipates

As up into the froth of sequined air

The ebb and flow of moments coalesce

We tremble; the portend of love’s caress

Is almost more than you and I can bear

The hour plods toward November’s dawn

We cannot halt its winnowing intent

How soon, how soon another year is spent

As tears of autumn deck the street and lawn

Ah, this is life; so much of love to learn

I feel your lips smile; I smile in return

© Janet Martin

What is Longing?

What is longing, this inferno

Burning, yearning hunger

This groaning internal reaching

For what?

Is longing

Self-induced affliction

Carnal appetite?

Or is it holy hungry

Of things spiritual,

out of sight?

What is longing?

It cries, un-heard

Un-hushed

Weeping in the dead of night

Moaning in the noon-day rush

What is longing?

Is it folly?

or is it real?

Is it perchance, earth’s lonely sorrow

That only Heaven can heal?

© Janet Martin

A Minnesang... Emaciation

Poetic Bloomings invites us to attempt a Minnesang

The MINNESANG (Middle High German - minne = love) is a courtly love poem. But it was usually depicting unrequited love. The verse was cultivated by the nobility, and often built around the theme of a brave knight's attempt to court a lady who doesn't return his favor.

The Minnesang was meant to be sung but the melodies were not well documented and mostly only lyrics are left.

The defining features of the Minnesang are:

• stanzaic, written in uniform stanzas although the number of lines in the stanza per poem is variable, sixains were popular.
• metric, often iambic tetrameter with the last line of each stanza a longer Germanic line (Long lines written in a minimum of 7 metric feet, Accentual meter and often composed as 2 short lines in 1 usually separated by caesura) , iambic heptameter or octameter.
• rhymed, variable rhyme schemes were used, ababcc was common another was abbcaa .

You keen my senses, remove my defenses

Ravish perception like a tree in the fall

My mind is blind to half-love recompenses

I drink foolish hope from its chalice half-full

While subtly you strip the smile from my lip

I remain, a devoted beggar on your fingertip

Beneath your caress, casually you undress

The dearest and deepest measures of my heart

But I am a fool and oh, you are so cool

I gulp the pleasure purposed blindness imparts

While you seem to linger just out of my reach

From the tip of your finger I beg and beseech

You move through me, an invisible tempest

While my wanton tears wash your body; your feet

I do not feel the chill of disinterest

Until you have stripped me; your mission complete

I cannot hide; my emaciated form

Stands exposed; naked limbs reach to embrace sorrow’s storm

© Janet Martin

The Art of Preservation

You trickle through my thought; a soothing sigh

A gold leaf etched against the azure sky

Before it falls in soft, soundless descent

To sleep upon the grass, peaceful, content

And there you rest in strongholds of my heart

Where we will never, ever be
Apart

Miles sweep the landscape; highways, hills and trees

Nature's paintbrush creating breath-taking boundaries

But thought ignores the  visual ramparts of the flesh

As it implores;  love, loss, longing enmesh

Their tenure in the fabric of the heart

Where will never, ever be
Apart

J~

The Heart's Expression

The heart’s expression

Is most often uttered

Not by fluently ordered script

But by the shimmer

Of love and sorrow

In a tear that tenderly slipped

© J~

Where Does Lost Love Go?

Where does lost love go?

Is there a resting place

For all those tender words of love

I spoke against your face?

Where does lost love go?

I have not wandered where

The tombstones read ‘here lies love lost’

In graveyards of despair

Where does lost love go?

Perhaps it tunes the moan

Of midnight’s February wind

As I listen, alone

© Janet

After-effects of a Beautiful Time

There never was a perfect time for that…
The vacuum that seeks to inhale present joy
Should I succumb
But I cannot
For missing you is simply
The after-glow of a bloom
A lingering fragrance
Filling the room
And I will not languish
Too long in its pain
For some sweet, sweeter day
We will meet again
The curve in life's track
Steals you from my sight
Goodnight, oh my love
Good-night, goodnight
Love is not
A fleeting bloom of youth
It is the very essence
Of all truth
It does not leave us
Never to return
I wait, I weep, I walk, I yearn
And turn to love the moment I am in
For only, only moments
Never return again...

J~

Flip-side of Love

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2012/01http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif/viceversa-midnight-snack-weekly-prompt_10.html

There is but one
Unmeasured sorrow
It is in that
Of a life,
Sadly wasted

If sorrow must be
Then I have been blessed
To know such love
It’s bitter-sweetness
Humbly tasted

Oh God, sorrow hurts
But it is not hopeless
With You
Sorrow is the flip-side
Of beautiful love

I have held love
And for love
I have let go
Grief is but a season
Heaven waits above

J~

To live without sorrow...
...is to live without love


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ri5XocxGyT8&feature=autoplay&list=FLsqea52gOM17vOYBlwPVKvA&lf=BFp&playnext=10

Would that I Could...

Oh, would that I could in place of a mile

Hold you closer to me

Oh, would that I could kiss your lips as they smile

In my tender memory

Oh, would that I could be as brave as you, hon

But that will never be

Oh, would that I could as I wish on a stone

Bring you back home to me…

J~

Loving Him (re-post)

Loving him

The most beautiful thing

She has ever done

Wild rivers run

Home-fires glow

Within her soul

At last she knows

She is whole

Dreams spawn

More dreams

'To love and to cherish'

But it seems

These dreams

Will perish

Loving him

Wild rivers run

The most unbearable thing

She has ever done

J~

No Pretty Pink Bow...

You held it too me beneath the pink sky
It was so lovely that it made me cry
I took it gladly; for oh, how could I
Know it was simply
A beautiful good-bye

No pretty ribbon, no neatly tied bow
No hint of parting; how was I to know
As you gave it to me with a tear in your eye
That it was going to be
A beautiful good-bye

I did not see through its beautiful disguise
Beautiful love song; beautiful eyes
Beautiful moment of beautiful sighs
Prelude to the torment
Of beautiful good-byes…

Janet Martin

Hints of Departure...

Some day I will leave you
But not yet
Maybe it’s a shade of blue
Or something that you said
That keeps me coming back to you
When I should leave instead…

Some day you will leave me
But oh, not today
Like a wave upon a sea
You will fade away
There are still too many things
That I should like to say

I should have called you summer
You come to leave
Ecstasy with a haunting ache
Tearing inside of me
Momentary sparkle
Of sunlight on the sea

Some day we will part
But not yet
It seems you took my heart
The day we met
And without you I fear
I would be dead…

Wrap me closer to you
In your fateful shroud
I see the Autumn creeping
Upon the purple cloud
But I hear your heart beating
In love out loud...

J~

Invisible Masterpiece

As silent and stunningly spectacular
As lightning in the sky
Soundless, it’s surrender
As a falling butter-fly
Or the silver kiss of midnight dew
Crowning each blade of grass
Rib-caged, a wild and phantom spew
Erupts, like scarlet glass
But no one takes a picture
Of this priceless work of art
Or beholds in riveting horror
The carnage of a heart

J~

Tender Splendor

I know you meant it kindly, sir
The night that you came to me
The moon was calm
The wind was warm
Its magic blowing through me
Your hand was tender on my arm
Your voice; true poetry
I know you meant it kindly sir
The night you came to me

I know you meant each word you spoke
So free, so kind and gentle
But life had happened long ago
A firm and well-worn mantle
The moon was low
And in its glow
I glimpsed a teardrop gleaming
I wish you had come long ago
When I was young and dreaming

I know you meant each word you said
No dearer ever spoken
I'll wrap them 'round my heart instead
A timeless, precious token
Then, on some night
In pale moonlight
When all the world is sleeping
Their tenderness will hold me tight
In sentimental keeping

Janet~

Sometimes it's the pictures that finds the poem......
and sometimes its the poem that finds the picture

Irreplaceable You.....

Of all the hands which I have clasped
Of all the love’s that I embrace
Of all the moments I have grasped
There is none to take your place

Of all the love songs I have heard
And all the moments thought can trace
Never have I quite been stirred
As then; no one can take your place

As shadows sprawl across the eve
Blotting out your lovely face
Silently my heart will grieve
There is none to take your place

Janet~