The Locket

So, who is the one
In that locket ‘round my neck
Is there a picture at all…?
Or simply a mental keep-sake
A vault full of memory
Of joys and sorrows
The warmth of a heart-beat
The hope of tomorrows….
For no one knows
What still might be
So I smile a little
At your curiosity
While life may scowl, still
I smile
And chase away the chill
Of an early fall
Or a lingering winter
As I pause to twist around my finger
A whisper, a sigh, a faded echo
In my locket, preserved forever
A face of today or one I have sought
But can no longer return to
And perhaps would not
Even if I could
As the waves of time
Roll, ebb, flow,
And melt at my feet
Like whispers of snow

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Janet Martin

A little......

As I pour my early morning cup of coffee
As kiss of dawn breathes softly on the sky
And tears of yesterday are just a memory
A sentimental twinkle in my eye
As the days like stiff and solemn soldiers
March in staid alignment o’er the hill
Suddenly I feel a whole lot older
But time keeps ticking on against my will…….
…and I miss you……a little


The flowers of youth have dropped their radiant petals
As wild and tender passion bows its head
Adorning memory’s shelf like rusty medals
Faded glory in an autumn bed
And as I wander through its hallowed places
Hazy sanctuary in my mind
I yearn to touch the vaguest lingering traces
Of the days that years have left behind….
….and I miss you…..a little……

I cannot stop my ears against the echo
Of moaning wind o’er distant lonesome hill
I’m drawn across the field into its shadow
Where I’m a prisoner of my own free will
Bind me with a chain of springtime daisies
Try me with your laughter wild and free
Sentence me to life within your arms dear
No chance of pardon from this misery…
….for I miss you…a little….more

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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!!!!

Some Memories.....

Some memories ride along with me
I keep them in my pocket
And some, especially dear to me
Are on a chain and locket
Some I tuck away up high
In faded years they rest
And some are in each heart-beat
Like an aching in my chest

I’m sitting at a station
But I don’t see the rain
It happens when I’m waiting
For a ride on some lost train
Is it just a train of thought?
Rhythm through the mist
Why is it that it seems I'm caught
Twixt present-day and past

If ever I should see it
A looming shadow thundering
I would buy myself a ticket
Without pondering or wondering
For I have a few memories
For which I deeply yearn
And they would be there waiting
If I could return

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Janet Martin

In My Mind

In my mind you’re right here with me
Drinking in the midnight dew
As we close our eyes and jump into
A lake of endless blue
On a shore of our creating
Where there is no thought of time
We could wander on for ever
Find a perfect hill to climb

In my mind we’d sit for hours
And enjoy a breathless show
Where the actors are the flowers
And the taunting winds that blow
We could talk or just say nothing
Either one would be just fine
Simply being here together
Would be paradise divine

In my mind you’re right here with me
And it seems I almost hear
All the words that you would whisper
If you could, into my ear
In my mind I smile a little
For I knew what they would be
And I guess I really know you
Just as well as you know me

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Janet Martin

Your Hands

I like your hands, such lovely hands
I like when they hold mine
As we stroll the moon-washed sands
Leaving a confused design
Of foot-prints, as they pause then flow
In random sets of two
I like to hold your hands and stroll
Beneath the moon with you

I like your hands, such gentle hands
They help to ease the load
When no one really understands
Like you, my winding road
I treasure their soft warmth
Find comfort in their grip
But darling, I fear I must confess
I still prefer…….. your lips

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Janet Martin

Come on...I can't always end them
predictably:):):)~)

Mystery

Don’t ask me to explain my poetry
The allure is in the mystery
If I tell you
What good would it do?
And after all, you must know this well
When it comes to poets….we never tell

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Janet Martin

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