Fact of Life

Night follows day…
Or does day follow night
I’ve never understood it quite
But if the truth were really told
It’s simply the process to getting old!!!

~Janet~

Soulmate......

There’s something ‘bout a writhing wind
Across a cool, blue day
Sweeping o’er a tempered plain
From lips, sullen and gray
There’s something ‘bout its sad, sad song
Its far and lonesome sound
Moaning through the rustling throng
Of cornstalks, crisp and brown
There’s something ‘bout the color
Of the stark and listless sky
That says it’s late September
How I wish it was July

There’s something ‘bout September
Always makes me think of you
Do you miss me, are you happy?
Are your eyes still summer-blue?
I hear the call of an eagle
Lone hunter in the sky
It chills me just a little
And it makes me want to cry
September, you’re a soul-mate
Won’t you sing your saddest tune?
How about ‘We’re all the way’
How I wish it still was June

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Janet Martin

Whispers....................

When on time’s faded lily fields
The frosts of autumn lie
When traces of her summer shield
No longer tease the eye
When the bright blooms of yesterday
Their trembling petals weep
And haunts of rambling hearts turn gray
Will there be aught to keep?

As we live ‘neath Time’s sovereignty
Its raging rivers run
To drain into eternity
Beyond the rising sun
And as we stand with common men
To view the wearied past
The shroud of withered dreams again
And shadows that they cast………

…will we with softened passions turn
And clasp the day at hand
Or with the weeping petal yearn
For whispers on the sand
The sand where Time’s vast river flows
Into an endless sea
And beauty is the faded rose
Of love’s sad memory

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Janet Martin

Victim.....

You beckon me to take your hand
Unwilling, I complied
You softly kiss with restless wind
Each farewell tear I cried
Then you draw my down-cast eye
Up to the wooded hill
Where ripples of your artistry
Arouse a sudden thrill
With second tenderness you brush
Your scent upon the dusk
And in this pleasant evening hush
I’m drawn in to your brusque
And yet persuasive, splendid arms
I’m not sure what to do
A victim of your cunning charms
Autumn, I love you too

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Janet Martin

Drink.......

Cold and a little bitter
When I swallowed it tasted like dirt
I should have asked for a different flavor
A drink of truth can hurt

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Janet Martin

Saying Good-bye

Seems like there is always someone or something
Saying good-bye
When I was younger, less jaded and searching
I used to cry
But now I’ve begun to realize
That it is a fact of life
Seasons, friends, loved one in time
Depart this vale of strife
Alan, I guess I agree with you
And the line in one of your songs
They should have made those tail-lights blue….
The color of good-bye and so long
Seems like there’s always somebody leaving
But what’s the use of tears
With good-byes, hello’s, I love you’s, we’re weaving
The tapestry of our years

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Janet Martin

Before Autumn.....

Before summer weeps her last hour away
Before she sleeps in her chamber of gray
Before her broad and glittering smile
Takes a well-deserved rest for awhile….
Before the meadows and wild-flower haunts
Become cold shadows where memory taunts
Before the evening drenched with dew
Bids her golden fronds adieu
Before she fades into the air
Just as if she never were……
Before we feel the dread desire
And yield to autumn’s kindled fire
Before sea-green flows brown again
Across a dull and dreary plain
Before the warm south breezes sleep
Before the snow returns to heap
Her cold blue wishes at my door
I must go and dance once more
Out beneath a trembling sky
That weeps today…..good-bye, good-bye

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Janet Martin

Summer's Farewell

I guess you noticed the way that the sun
Wept yellow love from the sky
You couldn’t resist the way that she kissed
The brook that went laughing by
The ivy that clung to the wall of cold stone
Gleamed like the light in my eye
I guess you noticed that it’s a great day
Perfect for saying good-bye

Azure and gold are the colors of love
Nature’s most tender caress
But I feel a cold wind moan from above
Beneath heavens happiness
I see the silhouette of a dance
A slow-churning quadrille of grief
A wave of despair hovering in the air
Like the flight of a wind-blown leaf

I guess you noticed the hint of a chill
Like the strain of a distant lute
Wafted upon a scarlet arm
With a mandolin and flute
And off in the distance of this perfect day
I see a blue tear in the sky
For I see you softly drifting away
In this perfect day for good-bye

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Janet Martin