I Woke To Sounds of Raindrop Feet...

I woke to sounds of rain-drop feet

Tap-dancing on the leaves and street

Where morn unmoored from night’s dark lea

To set sail on Time’s seasoned sea

…as we, like passengers aboard

This fellow-ship of deed and word

Embrace dawn’s grace-lent mystery

Toward a common destiny

Where sun and rain will have its day

And joy and pain its gold and gray

To acquaint us with high and low

Of holding on and letting go

Where storm and calm alarms and cheers

Time’s voyagers with smiles and tears

And Hope, the anchor of the soul

Ensures the advent of the goal

I woke to sounds of raindrop feet

Where faith and fear daily compete

Where passengers of seasoned sod

Are wise to trust Time’s Captain; God

© Janet Martin

 Psalm 148:7-13

 Praise the Lord from the earth,
    you great sea creatures and all ocean depths, 

 lightning and hail, snow and clouds,
    stormy winds that do his bidding,

you mountains and all hills,
    fruit trees and all cedars,

wild animals and all cattle,
    small creatures and flying birds, 

 kings of the earth and all nations,
    you princes and all rulers on earth, 

 young men and women,
    old men and children.

 Let them praise the name of the Lord,
    for his name alone is exalted;
    his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.

Midnight Rain...

The staccato of rain tip-taps the raven window-pane

The lane is lost in lacquer-glossed expanse of ebony

And earth is like a bit of bling hung on a silver chain

Its girth a big black hole as far as anyone can see

Where what we know exists by day has disappeared, it seems

So close your eyes, the paradise of sweet dreams gently waits

The outside world swish-washed away in midnight’s rushing streams

Until the morning flings ajar its yet far-off flood-gates

© Janet Martin

Sh! Let's Listen to the Rain!

One of my top ten favs… much-needed-rainy summer morning!

Suddenly we slip on slippers

Sip that second cuppa slow

Tempo of teeny tap-dancers

Putting on a first-class show

Suddenly a trillion runnels

Run where yester-dust swirled up

Pitter-patter, precious jewels

Filling pond and petal-cup

Suddenly the whir of traffic

Dons the shush of plush footwear

Hunger humbled by the music

That tumbles in answered prayer

Suddenly we feel at home, oh

Rain-rhapsody, what a thrill

Rousing in the pen a poem

That no strictest scold can still

Suddenly, summer seems slower

Laughter laps up heaven’s tear

Taming haste of come and going

With the taste of Now and Here

© Janet Martin

Splashes of Poetry

 ...rain is poem-ink!

The earth wears little mirrors scattered on the street and lane

And on the surface of the lake spill spangles made of rain

The artwork on a morning made of rivulets that wend

Down window pane and leaf is like a poem almost penned

The plush hush ‘neath a brush dripping with welkin whisper-sheen

Turns meadow lands from barren strands to bands of knee-deep green

Each flower, like a chalice cups a sip of silver tea

Poured from a lofty palace for the butterfly and bee

I think the ink of rain-drop pink and forget-me-not hue

Makes poets of us all for a perfect moment or two

Its delicate dimensions mount impeccable detail

A poem poured from heaven’s fount in pretty petal-braille

…like umbrellas for fellas that we read about in books

The wood-nymph, elf in fairylands of fern and mossy nooks

As teeniest of tap-dancers in tutus made of glass

Bobble on purple pansy-plume or ballroom-blade of grass

Ah, listen as the pitter-patter cadence ebbs and flows

A tempo from the heavens that only God can compose

Then bow before the author of May morning majesty

He waters fields and gardens with splashes of poetry

© Janet Martin

 The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; 

the world, and they that dwell therein.

Ps.24:1

(click reference link to read the rest of this sacred psalm)

Rainy-day Rondel...(because rain is one of a poet's favorite things!)

Rondel; A poem similar to a rondeau, having 13 or 14 lines with two rhymes throughout. The first and second lines reappear in the middle and at the end, although sometimes only the first line appears at the end.

They lob no lariat yet snare the dreamer in mid-stare

Where marionette-like circle notes freefall through bluesy air

And we pull up a chair to hear and feel its jazzy tease

A sax soft hid in maple-green, a trombone borne on breeze

With ease they tickle willow-keyboards, trickled tango-tune

Caught in a lily-draught like diamonds dripping from a spoon

They lob no lariat yet snare the dreamer in mid-stare

Where marionette-like circle-notes freefall through bluesy air

An orchestral arrangement no mortal can imitate

Of plush, sage-brush percussion, tap-dance on vined garden-gate

These nameless minstrels play Originals; we pause agape

…and drink a melody of wind and sea-song’s Fred Astaire

Where marionette-like circle-notes freefall through bluesy air

They lob no lariat, yet snare the dreamer in mid-stare

© Janet Martin

Are you ready for this?! asked my friend as she dropped her boys off in the pouring-rain morning!

Oh, yes, I replied, rain is one of my favorite-weather days!

Rainy-day tunes...

Fred Astaire - Songs From the Movies 1930s & 40s (Past Perfect) [Full Album]

Rainy Mood Cafe