Thrill-seekers

In the thrill of the hunt for a perfect wave

The surfer’s passion is stirred

The poet knows; as it scans thought’s seas

For the power of a perfect word

J~

Of Hidden Seas...

                                                          Image Source: Free Foto.com

Oh, world of words that tumble

Where only thought can see

You rise and fall, you ebb and flow

In passions wild and free

You crash against the boulders

Or melt upon a shore

In master-piece arrangements

You beg, plead and implore

You tease the purple quiet

You please, torment, revere

And whisper loud the heart’s full schemes

Where only thought can hear

Oh world of words, an ocean

Without shadow, essence, form

Brewing, insipid, lusterless   

An unrequited storm

But oh, unfathomed reaches

As you shatter thought’s traverse

Spilling your tenure to the air

In blessing…or in curse

© Janet Martin

In Love...

I cannot dole out

The epitome

...of Being

Love cannot be measured, divided

Withheld or extolled

...in portions

Therefore it is impossible

To love you

…only a little

Intention falls by the wayside
A useless garment

...in your arms

The filament of flesh

Becomes bearable

...after all

J~

In Spite of It All...I Love You

When the shortcomings of Reality

Steal my breath

And foolish fantasy

Is not enough

To make up the difference

…I love you

When the curves of your wanderlust

Do not align

In any shape or form

With mine

And I am baffled by its design

…I love you

When the matters of Fact

Will not be swayed

As they scramble awry

My plans well-laid

Because life’s just that way

...I love you

When every thing we could be

Is nothing more

Than everything we should be

In life’s crazy war

Of misconception and muse

…I love you

…because I refuse to stop

Dancing, reaching, yearning

In this flight of

No returning from

Whence we’ve come

And because it is not good

To go where we are going

Alone…

…I love you

© Janet Martin

Wisteria, Blue Moons and other Loves

September's Song...Mantovani

It is not my intent

To shut you out

Blue moon of half-grin

As you drift to the south

Above silver bracken

And the rushing of time

Teasing the tendrils

Of wisteria vine

I would rather fling wide

The pane I shut tight

For the cricket choir

Is in top form tonight

Where the chill air keens

The lust in its swell

As I sense the presage

Of a season’s farewell

I long to draw you

Through this shield of glass

To keep you warm

As the fleet moments pass

But you must submit

To nature’s stringent pull

The hour will not quit

When its portion is full

…and I must surrender

To resist is vain

As I tug on the window

To keep out the pain

Of the cool night sweeping

Over time-swept plateau

And the throb of its weeping

In gossamer flow

© Janet Martin

Last night I felt like I should apologize as I was forced to close the windows to its beautiful CHILL!.

Pennsylvania-Dutch Love Poem

Vos is des ding as mich so fershtroyed

Uns macht mich so liecht-kebich

My gedanka sin fatsuttled; net oof dei orbiet

Un auft bin ich dobich un lobich

Von du neagsht fabigh mich laffsht

Udda von du tighte navich mich schlaffsht

Ich fraug fa nix mehna fuun dich

Yischt es du mich net falausht

Bis de Gott im Himmel ruft

un Err cummt fa dich uttah mich

Gealt kon net kauffa vos liebe em gebbt

Un meah sin net orm binannah

Shtoft is yischt shtoft; es harcht em net aub

Un es glebbet vee so alte kannah

Liebe hault em froh un frei

Gott hault uns naegsht debigh

Meah sin bessah oub vee de reichah

Von meah net fagessah

Fah Gott bedanka

Un anannah yischt immah gliechah

Translation…

What is this thing that scatters me so

And makes me so light-headed

My thoughts are scrambled; not on my work

And often I am clumsy and crazy

When you closely walk by me

Or sleep tightly beside me

I ask for nothing more from you

Just that you will not leave me

Until God in Heaven calls

And He comes for you or me

Money cannot buy what love gives

And we are not poor together

Stuff is just stuff; it will not listen

And it clatters like old tin cans

Love keeps us glad and free

God keeps us close to Him

We are better off than rich folk

If we do not forget

To give God thanks

And always just love each other

© Janet Martin

Love and the Wonder Thereof

Oh, gentle, purposed blindness, defying the laws of nature, who can completely know you? You, of un-tallied kindnesses demand nothing in return. Unburdened, you are by the cumbersome weight of grudges or by the binding law of duty, but spilling in glorious profusion upon humble vestures of dust; creatures of lust taught by heavenly tenure of things pure and above earthly reason, committing, not random acts of sacrifice, but Being Sacrifice. This is love’s sole language returning ten-thousand-fold its recompense of reward, not for the applause of men but in worship to the Lord.

© Janet Martin

Poeticbloomings is blooming its prompt a day early:) We are invited to try Prose Poetry.

More on this Thing called Love

...and so we love

A trial and error groping

of wondering, wanting

and hoping

...a beauty and brawn receiving

of having, holding

and believing

J~