Dependable You

Ah, what will stir my muse today?
I scan the low-flung cloud
Covering the earth with gray
An uninspiring shroud

I pause beside forget-me-not
They do not notice me
Could it be that they forgot
That they’ve forgotten me?

The tulip and the daffodil
Seem empty without sun
I wander up the emerald hill
To sit upon its throne

Out across the restless land
The breezes swirl and dance
I try to catch them in my hand
They move without a glance

Then, with my heart and soul wind-blown
Something stirs in me
Darling, you never let me down
My thoughts run wild and free

Janet

Futile Logic

The heart is an entity all on its own
It will not acknowledge or heed
The logic I teach it; it is scattered and blown
For my heart listens only to need

The heart is an entity unto itself
It will not adhere to command
I take common logic; place it high on a shelf
For you hold my heart in your hand

J~

Tattered Poetry

How is it that you come to me
In tattered bits of poetry
The agony of your embrace
Reveals a tear-drop on my face
And yet I draw you closer still
And write of you against my will

How is it that you hurt me so
And yet inspire me to go
And take this new day willingly
To live in tattered poetry
Against my will I crave the bliss
The shadow of your bleeding kiss

How is it that in soft blue-gray
You are not too far away
And I feel you next to me
In ragged breaths of poetry
How is it that you hum to me
Those tattered strands of poetry

J~

Confessions

This is the time of day
As night begins to slip away
And chartreuse fingers brush the sky
Snuffing the twinkling lullaby
And slumbering violets lift their heads
To see the dawn of pinks and reds
Mirrored in a dewy kiss
While blossoms snow upon the grass
And songbird carols fill the air
As night drifts upward like a prayer
And weariness has been subdued
In hands and feet with zeal renewed
Yet memories linger achingly
On fingers of the willow tree
Where once we sat a little while
And languished in the others smile
But that like all else slips away
To grace the fields of yesterday
And I must cling to sound belief
There is an end to temporal grief
And failure is not a destiny
Nor is love a fantasy
But it seem this is the time of day
As charcoal softens to pale gray
Snuffing out the starry host
Oh, this is when I miss you most

Janet~

I Must Go

I must go
The hills have shed their robe of snow
Beneath the sun’s resplendent glow
And all the children are asleep
The willows whisper as they weep
And tell me it is late, you know
So I must go
Oh, I must go

I must go
Too soon the little night is gone
Too soon the ticking clock strikes one
As minutes like the white-washed sand
Trickle through night’s quiet hand
Your blue eyes beg me to stay on
But I must go
Oh, I must go

I must go
Across dark fields the breezes blow
I see you in its half-moon glow
And though time trickles like the sand
I cannot quite release your hand
It comforts me a bit, you know
But I must go
Oh, I must go

I must go
The valley may seem harsh and cold
Beyond it lies a street of gold
And all must tread this broken sod
On a stairway up to God
There His beauty we'll behold
I must go
Oh, I must go

Janet~

Glass Houses

If we lived in glass houses
Where the passer-by could see
Would we rearrange our life-style
To be-fit publicity?

We don’t live in glass houses
Walls can’t talk and you can’t see
But there is One above us
Who beholds us constantly

If we lived in glass houses
Oh, how mindful we would be
If we know One sees above us
Should we not live more carefully?

Janet~

The Trouble Is...

The trouble with longing is
There is never enough of it

The trouble with loving is
There is never too much of it

The trouble with needing is
We all need to be needed a bit

The trouble with longing is
You are too far away from it

And the trouble with loving is
The longing we find in it

Janet

These Hours

When these hours lie behind us
With its fleeting minutes shed
When they’ve sifted through our fingers
Into sunsets flaming red
Will we sleep in sound contentment
Or in sorrow hang our head?

When the sun was high and golden
With the sweat upon our brow
Did we ponder what we’re holding
And where it would be right now?
Oh, and did it make a difference
As life's moments ebb and flow?

The fool gives careful heeding
To his sublunary worth
The wise knows he is needing
What is not attained on earth
While Time’s incessant bleeding
Fills a sea of tears and mirth

When these hours lie behind us
In the vaults we cannot touch
Will we wish that we could reach them?
Would we change them very much?
Or will we sleep like children?
Mindless of the past and such

Janet~