A Little More Love

For today’s prompt, we’re once again doing two-for-Tuesday prompt. So pick one, combine both prompts into one poem, or write two (or more) different poems. Here are the prompts:

• Write a love poem. A poem about love, people who are in love, attempting to woo, or some other lovely spin on the subject. Or…
• Write an anti-love poem. I know that for every lover there’s an equally powerful hater.

We are all broken... promises and self-serving ruses

And hearts full of cunning and stuttered excuses

We all need love; not the hug and run kind

But love that won’t hold us then leave us behind

We’re all mistaken, misunderstood misters and misses

We all need try-try- again’s cuddles and kisses

Why don’t we try, you and I, ‘ere Time softly shuts its door

To strive to love one another just a little bit more

We all need love; the heart without, is a hungry pauper

We all need someone with which to share our care and laughter

What a pity that we can’t seem to find a way to prove

What would happen if we all gave just a little more love

© Janet Martin

Like an Art-show

  

The backdrop of 

life's day-to-day

Is a slideshow; 

Blush-blue-gold-gray

...that slips away

Hello,adieu

The sky a tray

Of untamed hue 

Where we look up

Paint-brush in hand

To dapple art

Upon time's sand

Beneath bowers

Of tinted air

We paint flowers

On winter's chair

 Janet Martin

Where Not All Poems Spill In Ink...

 Today's page is rain-thrummed gray...

but we may still spill songs to it

Happy second-last day of November!

The blue that drew the day away

And snuffed window-scapes ‘neath its tide

Grows pale; the grail that pours today

Refurbishes the countryside

Where we, wide-eyed artists, attend

Its poetry as yet, unpenned

Today is like a page that waits

To wear what madrigals we spill

Before dusk’s lowering of gates

Obliterates the moor and hill

When by the fireside we sit

To read poems as yet, un-writ

How vague seems unshaped poetry  

We dip into a sea of thought

Where what we think no one can see

Becomes the sum of actions wrought

And what we surmised was not much

Is immortalized by our touch

We are all authors of a kind

No one is insignificant

The poetry we leave behind

Is like a self-signed testament

Where not all poems spill in ink

Yet spell far more than we may think

© Janet Martin

The One Thing No One Can Do...

For today’s prompt, we’re once again doing two-for-Tuesday prompt. So pick one, combine both prompts into one poem, or write two (or more) different poems. Here are the prompts:

• Write a love poem.
• Write an anti-love poem. 

 

The one thing that no one can do

In spite of best intentions

Where modern-day tries to outdo

The old with new inventions

...where all our new-improved doodads

And all our forward thinking

And all our self-bettering fads

That change while we are blinking

Cannot, for all the google-sites

And endless information

And formulas and gigabytes

And scientific-ation

…for all that we have come to prove

One thing evades our merit

No one can force a heart to love

Ah, who of us can bear it?

© Janet Martin

I Want To Know What You Want For Christmas!

Today's PAD challenge:  For today’s prompt, take the phrase “I Want (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then write the poem

They don’t sell the thing you tell me

“Anything is fine”

If you could make up your mind, love

I could make up mine

“Last year was the best”, you tell me

Not having a clue was neat

“Anything is fine…but make sure

You hang on to the receipt”

© Janet Martin

...well, she didn't tell me to hang on to the receipt but I have learned its a wise thing to do...just in case:)

Human Race...

The race is on; the finish line

Is a place no one can define

Yet all of us, foolish and wise

Are pressing on toward its Prize

The race is on; not all will win

Or hear that wondrous ‘enter in’

Only those who believe receive

The Prize that waits; let none deceive

Then let us try, earnest and wise

To run as one who seeks the Prize

So when the finish line is plain

We did not run life’s race in vain

© Janet Martin