Reluctant Realizations

Like warm silk, she passes by
I sense a sympathetic smile
But she will not meet my eye
For she knows it will be awhile
Before she reaches out her hand
And asks me, shall we dance
For she like I, is not in command
But at the mercy of time and chance

Her long flowing tresses have been shorn
Her vibrant eye is dull
And in her sigh a chill is born
For we can feel the pull
Of hours in waiting; waiting to shed
Sad reluctant tears
On a mournful autumn bed
As she softly disappears

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Janet Martin

The warm somber haze
Of sweet August days
Fills me with reluctant realization
Over the hill
Waits September’s chill
And summer’s evaporation

Like We Never Loved At All....

It’s getting dark a little earlier each evening
The camp-fire smoke is lingering in the air
It’s summertime for now but I am grieving
The cooler breezes running through my hair
Still, I revel in the her flickering halo
Creating memories that I can recall
Years from now…..with pangs of muted sorrow
For it’s almost like we never loved at all

The hazy yellow moon softly caresses
The hills beyond the wheat fields amber sea
What is hiding in those rolling tresses?
And why are distant blue hills taunting me
I stare up at the clouds, my silent witness
Suddenly I feel so very small
A single tear-drop breaks the summer quietness
For it’s almost like we never loved at all

The warm breath of July is pure enchantment
Mingled with the sighing walnut tree
Patriarch of my small summer heaven
Whispering in the misty midnight breeze
They say somewhere summer lasts forever
They say New York is lovely in the fall
I say, summer, cry me a river
For it’s almost like we never loved at all

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Janet Martin

Who knew????? Sitting with a few
Very wonderful twelve-year old kids
At a summer night camp-fire, feeling abundantly blessed
Could evoke such melancholy inspiration!!!
There is no rhyme or reason to the laws of poetry!!!

Those Buried Dreams....

They call for me
Those buried dreams
With muffled sigh
Across the sea
Today it seems
I hear their cry

Their memory spills
In misty dew
Upon the grass
The distant hills
Serene and blue
Whisper as I pass….

They call for me
With disregard
To my binding duty
I am not free
The dream is marred
It has lost its beauty

The colors swirl
Muted and vague
A powerless mist
For the girl
Of yesterday
Does not exist


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Janet Martin

Silent Night

It should be a silent night
But what thoughts,
Oh, what thoughts I have
Of you, my love
The half-moon winks
His vertical eye
From a navy hemisphere
And I can’t deny
It should be a silent night
Without you, my dear
The wind with her sigh
Is dormant; asleep
The double layered sky
Of white noon-day cloud
Has vanished into the deep
And the silence
Should laugh out loud
But the tight-lipped
Midnight came
And left a summer ago
For I hear you whisper
Whispering my name
And I know
There will never be
Another silent night
For me

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Janet Martin

Tonight is a perfect, silent night.
I’ll go to bed tomorrow :

Commiseration......

Even the man in the moon sheds a tear
And even the starlight sighs
When I start wishing that you were here
I know that the night wind cries
For lonesome is merely a state of mind
It cannot tear you apart
Like the anguish and sorrow left behind
In the depths of a broken heart

Even the man in the moon sheds a tear
The stars know nothing of love
But they listen as I talk to them, my dear
In silent sympathy from above






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Janet Martin

Wanting.....

Wind and moon on the ocean crest
Faint light croons in the slumbering west
This is the hour I love the best
With music warm and gentle
Wind-tossed willow silhouette
Mossy pillow ‘neath my head
Listening to a night quartet
Your arm a lovely lintel

As the starlight falls like snow
In silver flecks ebbed to and fro
Reflecting in your eyes soft glow
A deep and earnest haunting
Reverberates without a word
As gravity of earth is stirred
Time and reason become blurred
In songs of grief and wanting

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Janet Martin

But I Must Go.........

I’m thankful for the dance we’ve had
And all the joys you’ve shown me
But I must go, please don’t be sad
For you can never own me
I’ll share with you a little while
The hillside where we wandered
Beneath a gentle azure smile
A blissful hour squandered

I’m thankful for each hand I’ve held
In summers pleasant journey
How sweet the blossoms that we smelled
Their memory tastes like honey
But I can never quite stand still
There’s too much life to hone me
None can be held against their will
So you can never own me

A vagabond, the poet’s heart
A restless lonesome drifter
He’ll share with you a little part
A smile, a bit of laughter
But then upon a winsome breeze
A call that he must answer
Thus the poet’s heart will be…….
A solitary dancer

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Janet Martin

Solitude

You tip-toed across my mind today
In your soft and subtle style
I posed a well-versed soliloquy
I think I saw you smile
Then before I could touch your hand
Or beckon you to stay
You disappeared into the sand
Without a word to say
The waves lap on the timeless shore
The tides still ebb and flow
But I can’t see you anymore
My dear, I miss you so

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Janet Martin

Incapable....

I am capable of seeing the flaming maple tree
Or the brilliant sun-rise or clear blue skies
Without being taunted by your memory
Your laughter in my ‘here ever-after’

I am capable of smelling a dew-laden rose
Or hearing the refrain of a summer rain
Without feeling the soft midnight mist enclose
The tender hour where love was a budding flower

I can walk through a carpet of leaves, wind-blown
Where each step we took is now a closed book
And I am capable of breathing on my own
But I know it’s true; I’m incapable of forgetting you

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Janet Martin

April Wind

Tonight her voice is low and cold

She moans outside my door

Her breath that flows with flecks of gold

Has found another shore

Tonight she sings a sullen tune

With chilling arms of white

She garbs the sun-bathed hills of noon

In melancholy light

Tonight her breeze of mellow tones

Turns icy as she speaks

She lashes out against the stones

Which grace the winding creeks

She sweeps into the hollow cave

And mocks the naked willow

She blows across the lonely grave

And broods above my pillow

Tonight I do not fight her chill

Her low perpetual moan

Tonight I’ll dance with her until

My feet are cold as stone

Tonight, though I would choose a song

Of warm dew-laden sighs

I know it won’t be very long

Before her music dies

Tonight she laughs with eyes half-shut

Yet I am not encumbered

She flaunts her frosty garments but

I know her days are numbered

April wind, I’ve learned a truth

As I observe your candor

You are fleeting as my youth

Wasted breaths of grandeur

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Janet Martin

I have to confess,

her chill and her snow

are a little hard to take

compared to the warmth

of a week ago!!!!

Earth

Sometimes I lay my head on your shoulder
Blurred with dust and dew
To catch the scent of a day in my memory
A summer night in June
But somehow the curtain of purple twilight
And the moss beneath my cheek
Simply cannot muster quite
The day of which I speak

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Janet Martin

Song of the Night

It drifts down the hill-side
A melancholy tune
Sung by the stars
And the man in the moon
It ripples the fields of silver grass
Nature’s piano and it’s first-class
I hear its soft strain
In the breeze that sighs
A soulful refrain
Trickling ‘cross the skies
It moans in the alley
And the deserted street
Weeps in the valley
Aching in each heart-beat
A silent symphony
Permeating the air
Resonating deeply
In the heart of despair
The music fades
Like a sigh in the wind
And I beg of the night
Won’t you play it again?

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Janet Martin