Wish

Why do we hurry so through life?
Soldiers of its woe and strife
Rushing here and everywhere
Never with an hour to spare
How I wish for just one day
To stroll through fields of fresh-mown hay
To spend its fortune ‘neath the sun
Without the thought of things undone
Elusive gift; an idle hour
To stop awhile and smell the flower
‘Ere it bends its lovely head
And all its fragrant tears are shed
I wish to take your hand in mine
Where blossoms whisper on a vine
And we would have no care at all
But just to watch the petals fall
As daylight melts into deep blue
Stealing the sun-kissed avenue
Where music of a wanton breeze
Drips from honey-suckle leaves
And still unhurried we remain
For life is not a ball and chain…

Janet~

In Love With You

I am in love with you
There is nothing I can do
To suppress my wild desire
As you whisper and inspire

I am in love with you
Completely taken, through and through
I cannot resist the urge
As paper, pen and passion merge

I am in love with you
Do with me what you must do
For you leave me speechless; stirred
You; the potent written word

J~

Thought of You

The thought of you becomes a presence
That I cannot reconcile
Deep slow-burning incandescence
Like a soft, eternal smile

Searing me with painful pleasure
Inextricable torment
As I guard this tender treasure
In a bittersweet lament

The thought of you becomes a yearning
Aching deep down in my soul
From which there is no returning
And poetry cannot console

Sweet and warm intoxication
Sun and shadow softly blend
Peaceful, powerful vexation
Is the thought of you, my friend

J~

Blues

I cannot weary of the blues
A strange and potent tactile muse
Tapping its dissonant tone
Like rain-drops on the cobblestone
A syncopated symphony
Playing deep inside of me

A testy hymn of driving rain
Beating on my windowpane
Forcing me to contemplate
The things I cannot mediate
Nor by sheer will can I diffuse
The dissonance of moody blues

Clouds and moments dissipate
Only love can conquer hate
But they cannot touch the blues
Or the sweet and silent muse
Welling up inside of me
In tattered bits of poetry

J~

Favorite Poetry

I wonder sometimes, what might be
My favorite kind of poetry
I scan the endless vaulted sky
With an awe-struck, reverent eye
And I’m thinking this must be
My favorite kind of poetry

But then the blueness of the hills
Etched where dawning daylight spills
Nearly takes my breath away
And I don’t know what to say
As the amber morning light
Captures every thought just right

I love the flow of written word
But I know that I have heard
A poem written in love’s eyes
And suddenly I realize
Surely, surely this must be
My favorite kind of poetry

Or is it in the muted tune
Of midnight and the pale, white moon?
The sparkle of the brook, the rain?
The thought of you, the ache within?
Or how about the evening breeze
Whispering in the willow trees

The lilac, heavy with a shower
The quiet of a pre-dawn hour
The music of a season’s edge
The view from twilight’s breathless ridge
Ah, I know there can never be
A favorite kind poetry

Janet~

Beckoning

Run your whispers down my spine
Take me one bloom at a time
Sweep afar earth’s tepid crust
As you stir the dormant dust
Kiss each hill-side, field and limb
With the gentle breath of spring

Feel earth’s passion rise to greet
Anthems of a warm retreat
Fling wide the shutters and the doors
It’s not winter anymore
Upon the tender grasses fling
The soft and gentle breath of spring

Speak to me in pinks and blues
And violet-laden avenues
Tear the coldness from my breast
With your lilac-scented kiss
Lavish me with softer things
Like the gentle breath of spring

Brush the storm cloud from the sky
Wake the slumbering butter-fly
Spread your verdant evergreen
Out across this pining scene
I can hear the willow sing
In the gentle breath of spring

Janet~

Inquisition

If I should tell thee everything
That whispers in my heart
If I should speak in words each thought
Down to the vilest part
Tell me kindly if you will
Would you love me, love me still?

If I should paint in ghastly form
The truth for all to see
And you beheld the wretchedness
That plagues me inwardly
Would you in disgust speak ill?
Or would you love me, love me still?

If I should bravely tell you all
That tortures me within
Would you turn away, appalled?
At the depth of my sin
Would you flee past yonder hill?
Or would you love me, love me still?

Janet~

I’m so thankful…
God loves me, loves me still!

Shore

Time flows insistently
A merciless tide
Where failure and victory
Are washed side by side
Over the past’s
Illusive brink
While we sit on the grass
…and think

I see in its swirl
Little pieces of me
Yesterday’s girl
Is a memory
Today a mother
Looks into the stream
Trying to remember
Yesterday’s dream

The shore is inert
But the wild river runs
As passion and hurt
Rushes over the stones
Time flows insistently
With a silent roar
While all we can do
Is watch from the shore

J~