Defeated

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

No one saw it.

Death

Flickering in his eyes

Or the way his cheek twitched

Or how his breath caught

At the mention of a certain word

No one saw when his last thread of hope vanished

His crooked grin replaced by an empty stare

As he gathered strength from a bottle

As he carved his initials on the wall

No one heard the thump of his head

As goodbye trickled in a bloody gurgle

Onto the sidewalk and into the gutter

Janet~

Written in loving memory of Darryl

Treasure

http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2011-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-4

Beneath my disappointment

Discouragement, regret

Beneath a selfish mountain

Of thoughtless words I’ve said

Beneath a shrine of failure

Excuses weak; slipshod

I found a thing of splendor

I found the grace of God

Janet~

The Betrothal

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/11/thursday-think-tank-73-waning-days-of.html



A molten lake beneath the soil
Midst mangled roots of stealth
The maple trees have laid their spoil
In vaults of nature’s wealth
Perhaps a last wild rose will dare
To grace its morbid tomb
And cheer some passer-by’s despair
To see this brave bud bloom

Beyond the visage of the hour
By naked eye unseen
The russet teardrop holds the flower
Of springtime’s rarest green
And as it lays its head to sleep
Among earths tangled ruins
A thousand, thousand whispers leap
To nurture summer’s tunes

Beauty may paint its brief disguise
Upon time’s naked skin
Yet, essence of true beauty lies
In tender folds within
While bully winds and storms may toss
Stark limb with stances bold
The tree stands strong and sure because
Of roots in burnished gold

The waning days of Autumn weep
Each frosted leaf a tear
But in earth’s bosom dark and deep
Begins another year
Ah, this is victory, bittersweet
Life waits in earthen tombs
A virgin slumb’ring ‘neath our feet
Awaiting autumn’s groom

Janet Martin

Good-bye

It’s sort of like the cold blue wind
Moaning outside my door
It’s sort of like the ocean waves
Sweeping an empty shore
It’s sort of like a bit of dirt
Bothering my eye
It’s sort of like a great big hurt
Telling you good-bye


J~


http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2011-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-3

Candle-light

How sadly the wind is weeping
How empty the woodlands sigh
How brightly the star is gleaming
Like tinsel in the sky

How gently thoughts of you waken
How deeply they grip the heart
How soon a moment is taken
In breaths of timeless art

How quickly a year is over
A flicker, a chant, a sigh
A soul-mate, rebel, a lover
A twinkle in the eye

How withered the blooms are lying
How little is summer's day
How soon we would begin dying
Should Hope and Love decay

How still is the night without you
How dark, the fleet-footed day
How brightly the thoughts about you
Return to light my way

J~

Melissa's Art...and Victoria

Megan, the bottom portrait is Melissa's work in progress.
The top one is her Grade 11 final piece.
She said she would welcome any suggestions you might have...
I'm sorry that it seemed to blur when I cropped it. It makes it hard to see clearly...

November's Madrigal

The clouds are shaggy-gray tonight
A shroud across the moon
But I can hear a song in spite
Of Autumn’s barren room
The purple-blue of twilight’s brow
Its stealthy fingertips
Speak silently of things like snow
As dark and seamless lips
Swallow the far and fading sigh
Of daylight waning in the sky

The regimental symmetry
Of maple, stripped and bare
Arouses still-life imag’ry
Of sorrow ‘gainst the air
But it is not a hopeless grief
That grips the quiet heart
As testaments of ragged leaf
Sustain in works of art
A Surety of unseen things
Beyond the Death which autumn brings

The sentimental memories
The ache of days gone by
The provenance of melodies
The tear-note in the eye
Are love’s impressions on a wall
Of whispered seasons past
The paintings in a hallowed hall
Where not one slight is cast
As we behold the offerings
Of summer, autumn, winter, spring

Janet Martin

If Life Hands You Lemons...or Limes

Accolades and words of boast

are not testimonies sub-lime

to prove the things we love the most;

but how we spend our time

I thought of you the other day

And how you used to kiss me

Before you turned and walked away

Limes always do this to me

If life hands you its lemons

Then make some lemonade

If it hands you limes instead

Drizzle it on bean-salad

(it really is delicious on bean salad)

Do not keep score of failures

It is a waste of time

Sometimes life is the gravy

And sometimes salt and lime

Janet~

http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2011/11/01/a-lime-is-a-lime-or-is-it-tuesday-tryouts/

http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/2011-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-2