Look What I Did! (memoir prompt #2)

‘Better to be silent than appear proud

and speak of accomplishments out loud’

How old are we when self-consciousness zips

joyous celebration behind our lips?

…and now at forty-six I must share, and tell

of something that I think I have done quite well

Old habits die hard; I’ve acquired a demeanor

that readily demotes my best attempts as mediocre

Long ago my mother taught me each small deed done well

builds a firm foundation on which we can excel…

so this is my humble and daily quest;

to embrace every moment and give it my best

Through this endeavor there are a few things I’ve done

that are entirely out of my comfort zone

Girded by encouragement, and kind assistance too

I started a blog, and thus I met you

So if there is one thing I am ‘proud’ of today

It’s you; the wonderful friends on blog high-way

© Janet Martin

Okay, I'm going to attempt to return to the prompts which began a few months ago at Poetic Bloomings. # 2 prompt Look What I Did!

Moans~

The wind moans blue beneath my door

It tugs the leaf from tree to grass

It draws the sea across the shore

And strains against rain-pelted glass

Thus, I can never really tell

Was it a tear or rain that fell?

Thought moans, a tempest in my mind

It clenches sorrows in my heart

Then surges, like the autumn wind

Across the twilight’s dim rampart

Thus, I can never really tell

Was it a tear or dusk that fell?

The quiet moans a lullaby

It trembles in leafy rain-song

A tune of moments slipping by

Of whispered hours here, then gone

Thus I can never really tell,

Was it a tear, or time that fell?

© Janet Martin

Tekel (means weighed)

Upon a mystic scale we place

The thread of moments spun

In temporal treasure we embrace

Against eternal One

The soil and spoil of want and have

Weighs heavy in one pan

Are we a servant, are we slave? 

Do we serve God or man?

The balance tips; thought yields its fruit

The scale reveals our thirst

On one half God; the other, loot

One blessed, the other cursed

Time fills one side; we cannot see

Its awesome counter-part

Where scores of vast eternity

Are settled in the heart

Upon a mystic scale we place

Love’s passion and its pride

I would be wanting, but for grace

And for a Lamb who died

© Janet Martin

Arabesque Acquiescence (an edited- re-post)

Softly you laugh, and vex me with your kiss
crumbling my will to ignore your bold fire
as I relent to cinnabar desire
roused by the hints of autumn-tinted bliss
glinting upon the zephyr’s ruddiness
You strut across my firmly planted ire
and never pause to even once inquire
if I should seek a lover such as this
You overthrow my sanguine-steeped intent
to disregard your winning works of art
Why is it now, that I cannot resent
the lavishness your fingertips impart
as you prey on love's languishing lament
and thus seduce my true-blue summer heart

***

Methinks the earth reserves its utter-best
to soothe the summer-heart’s acquiescent sigh
for bluer  is autumn’s pure azure dye
than summer’s satisfying sapphire crest
imbuing expectation’s blind request
The embellishing of cloud-tumbled sky
draws the stoic gaze of hope's devoted eye
rendering her quite speechless and impressed
as gently she relinquishes her will
advancing slowly ‘cross a rustling floor
caressed with weightless teardrops as they spill
from walnut, maple, birch; soundless they pour
Arabesque comfort bleeds from autumn’s chill
painting its parting on earth’s auburn shore

***

No longer do I seek to quell its glance
as drooping lashes spark the two-toned breeze
igniting laughter of the scarlet trees
and suddenly this summer-heart must dance;
kiss sorrow from the lips of circumstance
Heaven designs rare moments such as these
of musty grapes and lumb’ring honey-bees
Mesmerizing grief within its trance
Fall sonnets trickle from the russet vine
in tendrils of a reminiscent croon
as love and loss and longing intertwine,
the scent of dusk scatters the afternoon
How full the umber draught of autumn’s wine
Earth’s pining slumbers ‘neath the harvest moon

© Janet Martin

Summer-heart Resolve

I will not pine for faded flowers

Or for the wine of jaded hours

Lest I should let a moment drip

Unnoticed, from my fingertip

Missing what could have been because

I looked too long at what once was

© Janet Martin

Morning Madrigal

Its spills from heaven-portals

In merciful embrace

Of Tenderness immortal

Another day of grace

Into night’s charcoal blackness

He whispers, ‘let it be’

His Light pierces the darkness

And bathes the morning lea

Beneath His utter Knowing

Earth’s toil and turmoil bleed

Into scarred Hands bestowing

Redemption for sin’s seed

His visage is supernal

He sees each secret place

And yet, imparts a vernal

Unblemished day of grace

A sash of astral grandeur

Gilds the stark, raven limb

As shades of heaven-splendor

Dissolves night’s onyx scrim

Its spills from heaven-portals

In merciful embrace

Of Tenderness immortal

Another day of grace

© Janet Martin

The Secret to Every-day Beautiful

They plummet, like a bird shot in flight

They fall, shattering soundlessly

Like a star, in the dead of night

Or a bloom nipped prematurely

Perhaps they simply drift away

Like cloud-ships above

The dreamer with a dream,

But no love

Look through your window

What do you see?

Is it a landscape gleaming

With opportunity,

Or a day beautiful with promise

In spite of the weather?

Do you see hope on the horizon

Or an iron tether?

The eyes through which we behold the world

Shape the hour, then the day, then a life

It is attitude, not circumstance

That paints skies blue or gray, dark or light

Hope does not stream like the sun or rain

In portions from above

And every day is beautiful

When beheld with eyes of love

© Janet Martin

There are days when beauty falls, heavy and flat

because the eye simply sees through where the heart is at...

Today I Just Want to Love You #2

Today I just want to love you

To concentrate on the color gray-blue

Sparkling with gold flecks; your eyes

Crinkling and twinkling with humor, sweet child

I just want to drown in the music of your laughter

Trickling and lilting up to heaven’s rafter

Today I just want to love you, that’s all

Without duty’s persistent bugle call

Or the pathetic, perpetual distraction

Of self-focused desire and ambition

I just want to listen and really hear

What you are saying and why, my dear

Today’s priority might be to pause and stare

As the wind teases and tousles your hair

Or thrill to the childish curve of your lip

As you chatter; and what of those moments that slip

From the face of the clock? They are surely the heart-beat

Of living and gathering love’s bittersweet

Today I just want to love you the best I can

Tomorrow, if God will’s a boy becomes a man

And the quiet will echo of moments and hours

In childhood’s wink; go now, smell the flowers

Touch, taste, cherish; soon a lifetime is through

Oh sweet child, today I just want to love you

© Janet Martin; aka mom

Regardless of my fanciful wishes, all the love in the world doesn’t fill hungry tummies, so I better skedaddle before the school-bus comes!

I found this page below, in a book I was reading yesterday so I placed it in a holder on my kitchen-counter because life has a way of...distracting.