Contradictions.....

I didn’t know lonely could hurt so good
Or feel so soothingly bad
I didn’t know that loving you would
Be the best pain I’ve ever had
And I didn’t know that stars fall from the sky
And land in the glow of a loved ones eye
No I didn’t know loving could hurt me so good
And make me feel happily sad

I didn’t know empty arms could over flow
With an unbearable ache
Or that happiness can grow and grow
But cause a heart to break
And I didn’t know silence could be so loud
Or loneliness greatest in a crowd
No I didn’t know loving could hurt me so
Yet heal each secret ache

I didn’t know lonely until I met you
Or did we really meet?
I didn’t know the joy of bitter brew
Until I tasted sweet
And I didn’t know that misery
Can be such beautiful company
Nor did I know that missing you
Would make my life complete

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Janet Martin

A Moment Like This.....

I take them...
All my bad memories
And I tuck them away
Like receipts of bad investments
Or bills I forgot to pay
In this moment I ignore the troubles
That nibble at my mind
I close my eyes, oblivious
To duty; or the mundane grind.....
There is nothing I need to do or say
In this moment; I melt silently away
As I fall from the fragile edge of my day
Into the bliss of glimmering dew
Into your eyes of intoxicating blue
Nothing exists in my world but you……
Oh, how I love you there is naught remiss
As I’m swept into your arms and into your kiss
I am complete, completely yours in a moment like this
Summer, what ever did I do to deserve somebody like you?



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Janet Martin

Then.....

If I had met you then
In the subway,
Or on a train
Or a wind-tossed hill in Spain
If I had met you
By sweet chance
And we had shared
A slow soft dance
Or dreams or coffee
Or a second glance
Then perhaps I would be
A whisper in
A shadow cast
A little flicker
In your past
The address in a pocket
Of a coat, not worn in years
The picture in a rusty locket
Or in sentimental tears
I would simply be
A faded memory
Someone you wish
You could see again
If I had met you
Way back then

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Janet Martin

August Evening Song.....

The cottage that I call my home is bathed in rose-pink glow
And all around me petals fall like bits of colored snow
The robin and the meadow lark call faintly through the mist
While I can feel the saddened smile of summer softly kissed

To weep would be a foolish thing in such a glorious hour
For I can hear the cricket sing among the fern and flower
The breeze that danced on spring’s plateau has tear-drops in her sigh
And in her kindred breath I know she knows the end is nigh

Across the flaming western stage the navy curtains fall
I see the fluttering of a page; I hear a somber call
But far above God lights the first small star to grace the blue
Symbol of everlasting love and promises come true

Now nature lifts in subdued tones her offering of praise
Drifting to eternal thrones beyond this earth-dimmed maze
A universal symphony of summer’s plaintive song
An August evening melody trembling ‘cross the lawn

The shadow of the willow limb begs me to join her dancing
And in the misty moonlight dim with pale white glow enhancing
The carpet where small bare feet run all through the livelong day
I fall into the pleading arms of midnight’s gentle sway

The cottage that I call my home appears forlorn; morose
Beneath the blue and violet tones as heaven holds her close
But she like I is captured by this warm exotic power
As August with her mystic sigh reveres this solemn hour

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Janet Martin

My Favorite Summer Porch

It rests ‘neath the cry of the hovering gull

It cradles the sigh of the noon-day lull

It stretches for miles as a welcome retreat

A planet of smiles and sandy feet

And the waves roll across its tempered floor

For the porch I love most is the summer sea-shore

There is no blue-bell climbing at my side

But there is the swell of the ceaseless tide

And there are no steps of wood or cement

But sand is kinder and where I am content

The wind sweeps across this endless floor

Oh, the porch I love most is a summer sea-shore

No telephone ringing, simply a breeze

And the rhythmic singing of the turquoise seas

No duty waiting, no chores to be done

But simply the beckoning of sand, sea and sun

Of all the grand porches this earth may boast

The porch on the sea-shore is the one I love most

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Janet Martin

On Her Way.....

She has her own version of sorrow
Like oh no, we have no plans for tomorrow
And happiness is a summer rain splash
Or perhaps an orange popsicle mustache
But she walked by today
Her long hair flowing behind
Like golden grain
Rippling in the wind
The sound of her laughter
Floating on the breeze
The echo of chatter
Bouncing off the trees
Mostly arms and legs
And it seems
She is always balancing on something
Mostly dreams
As she walked by today
On her way to being a woman

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Janet Martin

Picnic....

I remember when I hugged you at your grade eight prom
My dear, I loved you like a second mom
Now the years have come between us and I want to cry
Too much mascara cannot hide the hunger in your eye….

Your leopard print mini skirt your stiletto heels
Can’t make me forget August picnics in the field
Picking wild flowers, chasing butterflies
I still see the little girl behind the black mascara eyes….

We all make mistakes, oh; I know I’ve made mine
But after the rain the sun always shines
I know you’re not a little girl anymore
And I’d like to dry the black mascara teardrops on the floor

We could go for a picnic like we did way back then
Some things are not so different as they were when you were ten
We could pick wild flowers, gaze up at the August sky
….too much mascara cannot hide the hunger in your eyes

Janet Martin
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Whole.....

It takes many pieces to create a whole
We are the form of mind, body and soul
What is a trunk with out branches and leaves?
What is a field without earth, grass or sheaves?
Without the water the sea is a grave
But what of the hollow which cradles the wave
The bud on its own would never bloom
A bride is no bride without a groom
Even a stone is a particle mass
The dirt is no lawn until it has grass
The bird and the bee and the butterfly
Without wings could never reach for the sky
A book with out pages or a pen with no ink?
A song without music or fount with no drink?
Yes, it takes many pieces to create what we see
And darling, without you I would never be me

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Janet Martin