But Not All......

I’ve known a lot of people in my time
Faces fading in and out like some strange nursery rhyme
Many a flicker, a moment or two before they pass over the hill
But then here and there I’ve known a few that never will

Echoing memories fill the garden I walk through
Blooming with faces that have long since disappeared from view
But then something stirs within me and I vaguely recall
A dance or two long forgotten, but not all……

Some days I am brave enough to venture again
Through the places where I’ve tasted the greatest pleasure and pain
And I see their faces decorate this hallowed hall
Where most have sadly faded….but not all

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Janet Martin

In My Heart

Beyond the blue
The seemingly endless blue of your gaze
Somehow I knew
Beyond your lips or the rugged contour of your face
I have held
And thus revealed an inconsolable part
As I beheld
The many ever-splendored folds of your heart
Invisible rivers
Flowing with a-thousand unshed tears
Midnight quivers
With the reality of the rippling years
Softly shedding
A misty haze across the garden wall
Yes, forgetting
Surely is the hardest part of all
As I cling
To the whispering ivy entwined in the deepest part
Of everything
I remember about us hidden in my heart

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Janet Martin

Mini-van Mama

I’m the daughter of a hard-workin’ farmer
Been married twenty years to a sweet truck-driver
I’m a middle-age, middle-class mini-van mama
Queen of the hair-pullin’, seat-kickin’ drama
Got me a house but no white-house ‘Bama
But I am proud to say…….

I’ve mopped eighty miles of hard-wood high-way
If you’re livin’ here you’re gonna do things my way
I’m a cloth-wringin’, broom-slingin’, mop-flingin’ mama
Runnin’ a tight-ship, pick up your pajamas
It’s an ‘if you dropped it pick it up’ drama
And please, just PUT IT AWAY!!!!!!.......

…….I saw her on her cell-phone on the side-walk
Leather coat, stilettos, man could she talk
Six feet tall with a red Lamborghini
Her dilemma where to buy a new bikini
But I don’t feel a tinge of envy
Oh, I’m so proud to say…

I’m a middle-age, middle-class, mini-van mama
Queen of the Sunday morning late-to-church drama
All because of the ‘nothing-to-wear’ trauma
But I’m just takin’ a break
From the broom-slingin’, cloth-wringin’, mop-flingin’ mayhem
Sittin’ for an hour singin’ glory, hallelujah, amen
Soon it’s back to the same old thing again
But I just say, hey, hey,….

I’m a middle-age, middle-class mini-van mama
Lovin’ every minute of this crazy drama
You’ve earned your Mercedes or Cadillac, Grandma
But I’m still on my way
In the seat’kickin’, insult flingin’, late again heaven
Man it’s a great day to be livin’
The best of days, queen of the mini-van
I’m so proud to say…….
Hey, hey, hey
Goin’ my way?
Shove over gang
‘cause one sure thing
There’s always room for
Just one more
With a middle-class, middle-age mini-van mama
Don’t you wish you were part of the drama?
God bless the middle-age mini-van mama!!!!!
HEY!!!!YEAH!!!!




All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

The style of this poem was adapted
from Craig Morgan's song, 'International Harvester'.

Dedicated to all the moms who said
they would NEVER drive a mini-van:):):)!!!!

New Love

He cradles her softly in the palm of his hand
And gazes into her face
Quick and willing to heed her demand
He keeps her in his ready embrace
Softly, so softly she sings in his ear
Ready is his reply
Oh how I love you my darling my dear
The apple of my eye
Proudly he shows her to all of his friends
In envy they gaze at her form
A true thing of wonder, she’s a mysterious blend
Of talent and beauty and charm
He brushes his lips against her voice
And smiles at her various tones
He’ll never trade her if given a choice
Without her he is truly alone
Like a friend in his pocket or a sigh in his ear
He cherishes this love so new
Oh how I love you, my darling my dear
Blackberry!!! HOW I LOVE YOU!!!!!

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Janet Martin

Touching a Memory

To touch you in a memory
Is like trying to touch a shadow
I reach for you as you slip from me
Into a reminiscent meadow
For as I reach to try and brush
The tear-drop from your eye
You fade into the evening hush
Like a phantom butter-fly
And all I can see is the grass and the trees
When I try to touch you in my memories

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

I'm Watching You

I see the way you look at Dad
And how he looks at you
I know when you’re feeling sad
And when you’re happy too
I notice if a sigh should slip
At the end of a busy day
Or when a smile teases your lips
And I know that you are okay
Cause mom I’m watching you and mom I see
It’s mostly what you do that is teaching me

I know there are things you need to tell
Before I am all grown
But I don’t always remember so well
And we don’t learn by words alone
Although I appreciate it mom
The wisdom you pass to me
I know in the end I will become
What you do and what I see
For I hear so much more than the words you say
I hear what you do, how you live day by day

I listen a little, or at least I try
‘Cause that’s what good children should do
But I hear much more by the light in your eye
Or the tone that is shining through
I hear what you do with the words you say
For action speaks louder than voice
I hear the way you live every day
Mom, I really have no choice
And perhaps I’m telling you something you knew
But I want you to know I’m watching you

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Janet Martin

hi moms.....you know those beautiful home-made cards
your children give you.....filled with precious and
priceless words.....do you find they can be quite sobering too?

Don't Move....

Don’t move, no, don’t even smile
I want to look at you like this for a while
Let me trace the edge of this moment
With trembling finger-tips
And imprint it on my heart-beat
Before this memory slips

Blue is more than a color on you
It’s the envelope of intangible hue
Wrapping this night in my heart of hearts
Before it melts away
And life’s cruel reality tears us apart
At the break of day

So don’t move, oh, don’t break the spell
Ask no questions, you know me too well
And I just don’t want this moment to fade
Into vague obscurity
So don’t move until I’ve made
A picture of this memory

All rights Reserved
Janet Martin

I Miss You More......

Some nights I miss you when you’re not here with me
And somebody else sits where you should be
No newspapers scattered all around your chair
I don’t need to tidy your hats and footwear
I miss the way I hear you slam the door
But on a night when it rains I miss you more

I miss the chat over a hot cup of coffee
Or simply listening to the rain on the street
I hear the water spray as the traffic goes by
There’s nothing to say when there’s no you and I
I know that I have missed you before
But on a night like tonight I miss you more

If you were here there would be a good chance
That the rain was the music to which we would dance
There’s something ‘bout rain that stirs my heart
But I like it better when we’re not apart
And I miss the way you close the door
‘Cause on a night like tonight I miss you more

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Janet Martin