Voices.....

This is the voice of September’s dawn
Weeping its memories across the lawn
Torrents of sweet melancholy
Laugh upon this faded sea
Who can touch the stars above?
And who can force a heart to love?

This is the song on the wavering breeze
Torn between summer and beckoning leaves
Whispers of passion and lovers’ tears
Tuning the sorrow of a hundred years
Who can change one leaf to red?
Or who can make a heart forget?

This is the plea in the dying sun
Knowing indeed that summer is done
Taming the heart of vagrant youth
Weaving a shroud of silent truth
Who can make an old man young?
Or find the tombs where Time has gone?

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Janet Martin

Angel.....

I held her a little while ago
Sun-kissed and sleepy
Her eyes have closed
And what she whispered
Only heaven knows
As I quietly turned to go…..
But….
……. when I tiptoed to the door
I heard her sleepy voice once more
The sweetest words she said to me
“Oh mommy, won’t you pray with me?”
And in the silent evening
I think I heard the angels sing

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Janet Martin

Sleepless....

There’s moodiness in the wind tonight
A hunger in the moon
And in the trickle of starlight
I catch a somber tune
The shadow ‘neath September’s eye
Deepens in the dusk
And on the breeze I think that I
Can taste a hint of musk

Beyond the cricket’s serenade
The deep blue midnight lies
If you were here then we would wade
Into her endless skies
But on the breeze I feel a tear
Who knew the wind could weep
Yes, I wish that you were here…
…it sure beats counting sheep

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Janet Martin

Retrospect.....

I would fight for what we love
But sister, what’s the use?
Gold hails from the walnut grove
And pine-cones from the spruce
We're powerless against the rule
Of times allotted hours
And sister, we would be a fool
To rearrange God's flowers

The trail of daisy and blue-strife
The barley fields of gold
Become the portraits of a life
As we are growing old
For we were green and carefree too
In pastures of our youth
The day was long and deep and blue
Before life’s somber truth

And though we fight with all our might
Summer turns to fall
And all that there is left of it
Are memories to recall
Sister, in life’s silver streams
We'll toss a restless sigh
For in its course we see our dreams
Of youth go drifting by

We could fight for what we love
But sister, summer’s dying
The faded bloom is living proof
And there’s no use in crying
The shadow lengthens on the wall
A cool wind draws our hand
Yes sister, it will soon be fall
But wasn’t summer grand?

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Janet Martin

Written for my sister, Carolyn
who turned 40 two days ago!!!

Maybe Tomorrow.....

Maybe tomorrow…..
I will write a poem
About sunshine and laughter
And memories that linger
Long after the pain
Maybe tomorrow…….
I’ll write about dancing
Through red and gold memories
Fluttering from the treetops
In carpets of glory
And I’ll smile again
Maybe tomorrow…
My cup will run over
With all of September’s
Grapes on the vine
And I’ll say that September
Is surely a lover
As I sip the nectar of
Autumn’s wine….
…and that will be fine
But today I will drink
My cup of sorrow
The scarlet may flow
In my chalice tomorrow
Today it flows out of
The gash in my heart
Because August and I
Have been torn apart….

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Janet Martin

Yes...I'll need a moment;
or a day.......or a YEAR!!!!
I LOVE August:(:(:(

Afterglow......

You shed your sigh upon the path
That I am forced to tread
You turn my eye, with gentle laugh
Toward horizons red
Upon the evenings dusty-blue
I see the shadows grow
As I behold an avenue
Of Augusts’ afterglow

The air is laden with the bloom
Of sensuous memories
Drink the misty night perfume
And summer’s sultry breeze
Celebrate without remorse
Each sun-drenched reverie
For none can sway you from your course
As ageless as the sea

You reach for me, I turn away
This is my hour of sorrow
For as this night turns into day
It will be tomorrow….
And there upon September’s page
My teardrops fall like snow
As I review a silent stage
And Augusts’ afterglow

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Janet Martin

Gwen.....

Her name was Gwen
She was black and white
She would look at me
In devilish delight
As the little ‘milk-maid’
Would splash and slide
Through grass and weeds
And fresh-made ‘pies’
And nothing in the world
Would alter her gait
As she looked back and laughed
At the little milk-maid

Co’ boss, co’ boss,
The sing-song plea
Seemed to be lost
On ‘her royalty’
In rubber farm-boots
Two sizes too small
The milk-maid would beg
And the milk-maid would call
Co’ boss, co’ boss
Won’t you hurry please?
With a toss of her head
Gwen would pause ‘neath the trees

They say there’s one
In every crowd
And Gwen took the blame
Standing tall and proud
A yell and a poke
And a slap on the rump
Didn’t even make
Her ‘royalty’ jump
Through the gate at last
Prodded into place
Gwen lifted her tail
And slapped my face

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Janet Martin

It is very hot and humid today.
I was telling the kids what it
Used to be like in this weather
At milking time….
….and a flood of memories rolled over me!

Future.....

I held the future today
He looked at me in the most curious way
Innocent wonder and wide-eyed delight
Restless, mischievous, with no hate or spite
Waiting to absorb what we do and say
Oh, I held the future today…….

For just a little while
The future is ours in the heart of a child
Moments to guide, to mold and to teach
Before they leave our side; out of reach
But worth every tear, every sigh and each smile
The future is ours for a little while….

I hold the future today
The sweet, precious minutes slip softly away
The heart of this child will soon be a man
What are the values on which he will stand?
God, teach me to teach him the one true Way
As I hold the future today

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Janet Martin



Children are our FUTURE!!!!!