For What?

For what I ask,

For what?

Is this life

A race

To naught?

Nay, nay, I say

Oh nay!

It is to laugh

And love

And pray

© Janet Martin

The Truth about Me

 

Poetics Aside Prompt: Take the phrase “The Truth About (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem.

I’m not very complicated

Ordinary; yes, that’s me

But darling, fame is over-rated

I prefer simplicity

One would think simplicity

Is quite easy to maintain

But it takes purposed resolution

In this era bent on gain

God forbid that I will squander

In the driven lust for things

The purest offerings of His wonder

Set before us; fit for kings

© Janet Martin

Cut to the Quick

 

Cut to the quick

By your half-grin

And all that

Words can

Never say…

Cut to the quick

Oh darling,

Who knew

Love could hurt

This way?

Cut to the quick

By whispered nothings

Held in

Prelude

To your kiss

Cut to the quick

Oh my darling

Love is a

Double-edged

Bliss

© Janet Martin

November Landscape (repost)

The ground is white this morning...a year ago I posted this poem at the first snowfall.

The wind has gleaned its harvest
And every tree is bare
Save for the golden birch leaf
A-drift on stringent air
The hour-glass of autumn
Has almost run its course
The gale, a moaning phantom
Upon a restless horse
 

The stillness of November
The silence of the soil
Breathes cold and moody splendor
On earth, stripped of its spoil
While orchard, field and vineyard
Like ghost-towns of the west
Are quiet now and empty
As laborers seek their rest

Departure and arrival
Converge in soundless flight
As autumn becomes winter
In nature’s surge of white
An aching fills our bosoms
In humble thankful prayer
We lift our hearts to heaven
And thank him for His care

Janet Martin

The Truth About Us...

 image source: islandnet.com

Poetics Aside Prompt: Take the phrase “The Truth About (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem.

Longing is that part

Of being human

That can never be entirely met

But it spurs the dreamer

To the dream

And keeps us looking

Ahead

I have found a reprieve

Of sorts

For the greater longing

Within

It bleeds in

Ink-drops shaping words

Its crux; a pen

The truth about us

Is nothing new

Too soon we all grow old

But longing

Drives us from the warmth

To search

In bitter cold

© Janet Martin

The Truth about Women

Poetics Aside Prompt: Take the phrase “The Truth About (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem.

This movie is a family favorite at our house...

We were supposed to be watching

Shop around the Corner

But suddenly I saw her

In my peripheral view

As she watched the movie

Twixt chatter and knitting

Suddenly it hit me

She is growing up too

For one wink a girl

Then forever a woman

I study her profile

Her nose, her chin

Somewhere between breakfast

And warm hugs at bedtime

Suddenly I wonder

When did it begin?

She turns to look at me

The woman inside her

Is restless and eagerly

Waiting to bloom

She does not know

Of the urge rushing through me

To hold back the moments

The hours consume

Inside every girl

Is the bud of a woman

Time will unfold

Its intent willingly

Inside every woman

In spite of the ages

Is part of the girl

That she used to be

© Janet Martin

Making Love

 

...There

On the floor

Where the full moon

Spills

 A silver aureole

I lie

Staring out

At the night

A big black hole

Where ‘good-bye,

I love you’

Whispers from the phone

The miles morph

Between us

And we are not alone

Sometimes making love

Comes with a great price

But the true language of love

Is sacrifice

© Janet Martin

November Song of Praise

Praise Him, the meadow is stripped of its harvest

Praise Him, the orchard is plucked of its fruit

Praise Him, the chill wind roams, cold through the woodlot

Where summer’s soft leaf-song lies still at the root

Praise Him though flaunt of the garden has withered 

As gray and brown pigment fills the Painter’s brush

Praise Him; the beauty of autumn’s departure

Bleeds on the landscape in somnolent hush

Praise him; His grace is not ‘but for a season’

Praise him; His hope makes our journey worthwhile

Sunshine and suffering both have their reason

The gauntlet to glory is worth every mile

Praise Him; though chill of the twilight is weeping

Tears on the windowpane, snuffing daylight

Praise Him; for safe in the Master’s kind keeping

Are all of His children; none lost to His sight

Praise Him in glad times or seasons of waiting

Wise is the blue-print of patience-wrought faith

Praise Him; though fathoms lie twixt earth and heaven

His love surrounds us in a hallowed wraith

Praise Him; the color of autumn’s abating

Settles against the backdrop of lost charms

Time treads the corridor of God’s creating

We tread the pathway that leads to His arms

© Janet Martin