Of 'Hopeless Semantic' Scribbles...

and yes, I'm a hopeless romantic too;))
(have you done this? I know I have; not with a camera but while I wait on my daughters at the mall)

It was meant to be

my relationship with you

vowels, consonants

woven into

a whimsical wish

or a beautiful dance

of passion, desire

and romance

Of wisdom, surrender

of fantasy

and oh, darling

of endless possibility

 Janet Martin

At the Mercy of the Muse...

Enchanting insanity

Double-edged bliss

Of tormenting misery

Disguised in a kiss

…that kiss leaves me wanting

And hungry for more

So I reach for the taunting

Where mysteries implore

As I grasp for its drenching

I resist, then beseech

The lyrical quenching

Just beyond my reach…

I cannot bear it

And oh, yet I must 

Fling into the air its
Glitter of dust

Beguiling whisper

Driving me mad

But if she should leave me

I would be so sad

For Muse is a soul-mate

With venomous kiss

Muse is a lover

Of bittersweet bliss

© Janet Martin

Alexandria, it really is a doubled-edge brutal bliss:)

The Harrisham Rhyme

 Poetic Bloomings invites us to attempt the Harrisham Rhyme.

The Harrisham Rhyme was created by Harrisham Minhas, of Punjab, India. It consists of one six-line rhyming stanza.  In this form, the last letter of the first word of each line becomes the first letter of the first word of the next line.

Rhyme scheme : ababab

God loved me so much, when He gave me you

Darling, you put a smile on my face

Grant it; of love’s struggles, we’ve had a few

Testing love’s tender embrace

Grace and forgiveness are heaven-spilled glue

Essential to keep a marriage in place

© Janet Martin

This is fun…I’ll try another

Duty may lecture and tasks may compile

Yet Muse keeps wheedling her bait

Taunting and teasing, words beg and beguile

Goading my love and my hate

…gentle persuasion and poetry smile

Everything else can wait…

© Janet Martin

…but only for so long! I’m fall-cleaning the living-room today. That must be done before we may set up the tree.

The Truth About Lying

Poetics Aside prompt: Write a poem illuminating how it feels to stand up for what is right in the face of adversity in the workplace.

Honor or money
Which will it be?
For I can fool others
But I can never fool me

The plaque on the wall
Will mock me with truth
If I succeed through a lie
What truth could not do

I want to look myself
Straight in the eye
Not blush because
All I see is a lie

Money can never
Buy out regret
Or clear the conscience
Of its debt

Bills will keep coming
Words slip with ease
But guilt is an albatross
Money cannot appease

To suffer the truth
Or spill pretense?
To keep my job
At honor's expense?

What can we say
To our children and youth
If we choose to lie
Then try to teach truth?

The cost of a lie
Is hidden from view
To keep a lie covered
Requires at least two

God forbid
I should lie so much
That I no longer feel
Reproach's touch

A lie is a shackle
Of misery
But the truth will always
Set you free

Money or sacrifice?
Fortune or trust?
Riches in heaven?
Or treasures of dust?

Guilt or peace?
Honor or shame
What will they remember
When someone speaks my name?

Today we live
Tomorrow we die
Nothing is worth
The price of a lie

Janet Martin

Honey or Vinegar?

They have the power

To build or destroy

They can sweeten the hour

Or rob it of joy

With them we bind closely

Or tear apart

The beautiful fellowships

Of the heart

They may leave us cold

Or deeply stirred

The power we hold

In the form of a word

© Janet Martin

Of Muddles and Music...

Dance through the muddle of life

For oh, when the music stops

You’ll wish for the tune of clattering spoon

The music of messes and mops

Sing through the muddle of life

For oh, when the house is still

How oft we will hear the music drift near

The way that a memory will

Laugh through the muddle of life

For oh, life is too short to fret

And we do not care to fill its brief share

With days we would rather forget

Love through the muddle of life

For oh, if we choose to wait

For the perfect time and the perfect rhyme

Well then, it might be too late

© Janet Martin

Sometimes when its ‘teen-age noisy, messy’ I need to remind myself of this! And dance, sing, laugh, love.

November's Farewell Song

What is that song you play tonight?

It rolls across the cobalt eve

Where finger-tips of silver-white

Strum branches aching for their leaves

What is that melody we hear?

Of still and starless diadem

Tolling the waning of a year

In farewell notes of snowflake gem

Who plays this moody minuet

A sudden, surging solitude

Where daylight rests her weary head

As rushing winds are calm, subdued

Where is the Maestro that instructs

This tender, tortured euphony?

It trembles in the midnight arch

And drifts across the frozen lea

What is that song; a humble hymn

Autumn’s postlude, a lullaby

That trickles from the silent scrim

Of deep November-night good-bye

© Janet Martin

Love-wish

 I would love

To learn to love you

The way you

Would love

To be loved

© Janet Martin