In Color

God loves us in color…
Blue skies
White cloud
Yellow sunshine
Laughing loud
Red strawberries
Purple bloom
Green carpeting
Summer’s room
Orange sunset
Silver mist
Golden moments
Heaven-kissed

J~
I looked around me while picking straw-berries today…
And thanked God for loving us in color!

Relinquishments

In the fragment of a whisper
And the bending of a sigh
In the anguish of a murmur
And the answer in your eye

You dismantle all my armor
Soothe life’s calluses away
By the pining of an arbor
‘neath a midnight soft and gray

As the pain of hoarded pleasure
Melts into your reckless gaze
Into pools of endless azure
I relinquish common ways

I care not for fields of fortune
Life has purer charms than this
I have touched them for a moment
In the shadow of your kiss

In the fragment of a whisper
And the candor of a sigh
I relinquish oceans longed for
I have traveled them tonight

J~

June Day

It’s the kind of day for me
Where conflicting desires urge
Two kinds of responsibility
…to labor or to splurge?

The gray eye of a moody sky
Smolders in the distance
Cloudy June day lullaby
Weakening my resistance

It’s the kind of day for me
Where duty seems too common
For through my window I can see
A rare June day in blossom

The wind demands a little dance
Its blue chill stirs the wanting
Of more than just a wistful glance
Upon a June day taunting

It’s the kind of day for me
Divided by desire
Wise responsibility
Or June days verdant choir

Janet~

If you were here
We’d reach and brush aside our endless duties
Exchanging them for freedom’s ride and summer’s haunting beauties
We would do the little things we dream about while working
And never dwell upon the little chores we might be shirking

If you were here
We’d talk and never mind the clock or hours
There’s much to do and say without mere words restrictive powers
And we would follow every path of freedom’s wanderlust
While meadowsweet and daisies laugh and daylight sweeps the dust

If you were here
We would forget to watch the hours divide
Desire into segments; lest our freedom might subside
Into the darkening silence; into a day, a year
Darling, would it make a difference, oh, if you were here?

J~

If You Were Here

If you were here
We’d reach and brush aside our endless duties
Exchanging them for freedom’s ride and summer’s haunting beauties
We would do those other things we dream about while working
And never dwell upon the little chores we might be shirking

If you were here
We’d talk and never mind the clock or hours
There’s much to do and say without mere words restrictive powers
And we would follow every path of freedom’s wanderlust
While meadow-sweet and daisies laugh and daylight sweeps the dust

If you were here
We would forget to watch the hours divide
Desire into segments; lest our freedom might subside
Into the darkening silence; into a day, a year
Darling, would it make a difference, oh, if you were here?

J~

In the Loving of June

The wind in the willow has always been
One of her favorite tunes
The deeper blue of late evening
Is her favorite back-drop for June
She loves to linger a moment too long
Where daisies and buttercups sigh
She loves to revel in midnight’s song
Beneath the cool of the sky

She loves the passion and wanderlust
That draws her from slumbers repose
She loves the scent of dew-laden dust
Tinged with the breath of a rose
She loves the murmur of green and blue
In summer’s pure work of art
She loves the whispering thoughts of you
Curving against her heart

She always thought for everything lost
Love gives something in return
But she never fathomed the bittersweet cost
Or the depths to which loving can yearn
She never fathomed that summer and love
Could leave in an afternoon
She never fathomed the bitter-sweet hurt
Wrapped up in the loving of June

Janet~

Of Silences

There is a silence that is harsh
and cold with condemnation
but on a softer night, a hush,
of slow-yearning sensation
threatens to dispel the sigh
of longing or defeat
across a moonless midnight I
can feel a murmur sweep
in urgent whispers on my skin
until it pauses where
the tender ache of you begins
like sparks upon the air

it warms me on the coldest night
and thrusts aside my woe
a calm and sensuous delight
an iridescent glow
melting on my lips and tongue
yet moaning in my ear
ah, now I am forever young
within this atmosphere
intangible, the fervent touch
yet in it I am taken
trembling as its fingers brush
me softly, lest I waken

J~

Empty Page

She wrote twenty letters
And threw them all away
What is there left to utter
When there’s nothing left to say?

Perhaps a single teardrop
Is the only thing to spell
How does one write of heartbreak
When there’s nothing left to tell?

Janet~

The Emptiness of Things

Things lure with artificial promises
Leading to empty delusion
Never satisfying our formless lusts
With shiny and plastic profusion

Things are cold and hard and unfeeling
Its thrill is hollow and brief
An arrangement of emptiness, visually appealing
Unable to offer relief


But the night coming down with misty sighs
Quieting the noise of the day
The planting of dreams as I look in your eyes
The rush of the willow limbs sway

A touch full of warmth and wondering and wanting
A thrill wild and bittersweet
Causes things to fade with pathetic taunting
Like pebbles beneath our feet

J~

Hand of God

Purple, pink and yellow
Orange and white and plum
The flowers are so beautiful
Nodding in the sun
A little glimpse of heaven
To deck this morbid sod
In their fragile beauty
We can see the hand of God

Gold and mauve and scarlet
Coral and deep blue
The sun in flaming splendor
Bids the day adieu
Gleaming through the maples
Lingering o’er the land
A silent, stunning master-piece
Wrought by heaven’s Hand

The pasture curves against the brook
The landscape to the sky
As silence deepens in each nook
And tender breezes sigh
The ache of beauty gathers
As nighttime sweeps the sod
To touch our humble heartstrings
With the tender hand of God

Janet~

A Little Life

Arise, and let us be going
See how the daylight wanes
Beneath its lustrous glowing
All that yet remains
Within the nights tranquility
Is not what was…but what will be

The shadows of life are folding
Its spoils upon the grass
Amidst our toil and scolding
Our little lives will pass
And all that will rest beneath its shade
Are the choices we have made

See the summer pastures
Rippling in the sun
Yet in the gathering hours
Its fading has begun
And soon its emptiness will lie
Beneath a cold and quiet sky

Arise, and let us be going
For etched in the waning light
Are echoes of love and longing
Reaching for the night
As moments vanish in the clutch
Of sight and sound and taste and touch

Janet~