Ah, Wherefore Art Thou Hiding?

...so, the snow is mostly gone but it was below freezing this morning and the blue wind growls like a bully...

Then let thy verdant impulse overtake this umber sweep

Vile chords of chilling wind-song immerses blue, moody deep

And though we know for things worth waiting for, ah we must wait

Straining, we grasp at echoes of wisteria-laden gate

Springtime, springtime come lightly with warm kisses on thy breeze

How long must we be patient for thy fragrant melodies?

Spread wide thy frock of flowers and shake free thy gleaming tress

Fair maiden, lovely-laden, pray what hampers thy caress?

Didst thou forget thy way while winter pulverized his mat?

See, we stand with arms flung wide where meadow-lands lie flat

Springtime, springtime, do not linger behind a stricken stile

You are everybody’s darling and we miss your bonny smile

As the hart pants after water, sweet springtime, we pant for thee

Hunched long beneath our ragged optimistic misery

Yet spurred by recollection of lush orchard on green hill

Of fallow donning color where mute seed begins to spill

Springtime, springtime, ah, wherefore art thou hiding; in the dell?

Or hast thou simply lost thy way while winter bid farewell?

© Janet Martin

The Most Important Location Ever

PAD Challenge day 23: write a location poem

Here.

Now.

Not

When or

If

But

Here.

Now.

Is all

There is…

© Janet Martin

Of Veiled Chambers

PAD Challenge day 23: write a location poem

I’ve never seen it

Yet know it exists

And here you have held me

In bittersweet tryst

Here you have pondered

And pleaded the force

Ever deploying

Time’s sleepless discourse

This gaze-veiled chamber

Compels me to stare

Deep, deep into wondering

What else might be there

Who sits beside me

And what do we say

And oh, do you mention

Her name when you pray?

I will never see it

Yet it exists, I know

For thought is a room

Without windows, but oh…

© Janet Martin

Here in the Crook 'o Morning

PAD Challenge day 23: write a location poem

Here in the crook o’ morning

We cannot tell what lies

Begging at our doorsteps

Within time’s hungry eyes

The troubadour of sorrow

Or minstrel of our song

Aligns; yesterday’s morrow

Refurbishes the dawn

We touch our heart to heaven

…our feet to living’s dirt

Where have and holding renders

Love’s ever-sacred hurt

…and here in morning’s cradle

Of virgin imminence

We beseech Mercy’s favor

For gracious providence

© Janet Martin

 

Ah, Great Lonesome...

 I know I posted this song not so long ago here but listening to this tune evokes a Great Lonesome until...

Ah, Great Lonesome, you would kill me

Spread like cancer through my soul

Not for lack of smiles and kisses

But for That which makes me Whole

Tell me, cold and nameless Hunger

What is it you covet so?

Tormenting both old and younger

With a hollow, weeping throe

Ah, Great Lonesome, fearless hunter

Stalking wonder for its prize

Taking prisoners without pity

Lodging in Want’s thankless sighs

Tell me, sad and silent stranger

What is it you strive to seek?

Without pardon or permission

You trace teardrops on my cheek

Ah Great Lonesome, haunting fetter

But for tender triumph where

I can flee; a pining beggar

At the mercy of a prayer

Here, upon Love’s lavish promise

Though you taunt and weep and wail

I am safe within the comfort

Of One Love that cannot fail

© Janet Martin

All Grace

Regret is a bully with heavy shoes

Self-confidence a fraud

Accomplishment is a sad ruse

Without the love of God

Despair blinds us to what is good

Blame crushes precious hope

Courage cannot do what it should

Without God’s hand to hold

Anger; the scythe that slaughters joy

Fear dictates where faith fails

Belief is but a misplaced buoy

Lest God’s sure truth prevails

Guilt cannot abdicate at will

Nor can remorse forgive

Life without God is death until

At last by grace we live

© Janet Martin

Faith-factor

PAD Challenge day 22: write a pessimist poem. Write an optimist poem

Like children

We press our faces to hope’s window

In eager expectation

But darkness

Fills the air with raindrops

And no explanation

One by one

The faces in the window disappear

Save where

They linger

Knowing hope remains as long

As there are children

...and prayer

© Janet Martin

Ink Tug 'o War

PAD challenge day 22: write a pessimist poem. write an optimist poem

…and I would fling this pen aside

The taunt of word that keens the air

Wrangles twixt yearning and despair

To spill their will in verbose tide

The blood of thought runs wild and blue

A recompense of cloven ink

As what I taste and touch and think

Desecrates a page or two

What merit is this? Bliss and bane

Rival on throbbing battlefields

…its aftermath of groaning yields

The offspring of a poet’s pain

And yet the unwritten implores

Within the pen; miniscule rod

To tender to meek parchment, God-

Whispers of Home and heart-shaped doors

…and I would fling this pen aside

Save for a graven thought or two

This life is not a rendezvous

With fate; nor Time a dead-end tide

 

© Janet Martin