Epitome of Joy for a Twelve Year Old Boy

Forget the bat and baseball
Drop the glove
There are a few things dearer
For a boy to love
There’s music in the distance
To give his spine a chill
Lo, sleek awesome beauty
A red Ferrari comes over the hill

(A scene witnessed by ‘mom’
A few minutes ago)

Desire.....

I would like to tell you what I’m thinking
There’s so much that I would like to say
I’d like to walk with you in this fair evening
But darling, you are just too far way

I’d like to see the way the moonlight glances
Off your face where tender memories sway
I’d like to see the way the night enhances
You; but you are just too far away

I’d like to tell you with my touches
The things that my two lips can never say
But my dear I’ve come to know that such is
Love; for you are just too far away

I would like to tell you what I’m thinking
With your heartbeat needing what I say
I would like to be with you this evening
But my darling, you’re too far away

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Troubadour

August moon, you have no mercy
Troubadour of a sweet melancholy
King of all the silent hidden oceans
Casanova of a roving midnight sea

Tonight I will not fight your silver urging
Or resist each moon-kissed memory
Tonight I’ll give in to a star-lit purging
And drink the wine of tears and ecstasy

August moon, you are smooth operator
My firm resolves melt in your tranquil glow
The memories arranged in perfect order
Lay jumbled like a jig-saw in the snow

August moon, your face shows no emotion
As you tear the lining from my soul
I gaze up at the deep blue full moon ocean
Drowning in a sea out of control

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Janet Martin

Past's Eternity

Spring and fall, you melt away
Like ripples on the sea
The covers of a tiny page
In past’s eternity
Sunshine, you dance so briefly
Upon my summer pillow
Before you’re snatched so eagerly
By blue ice stealing yellow

Today I’ll pause to smell the blooms
Today I’ll stroll the greens
Before they rest in darkened tombs
Of history’s charcoal scenes
Today I’ll hold the little hand
Before it carries me
Today is but a tiny strand
In pasts eternity

Should summer plead outside my door
I’ll take my fleeting chance
I’m not hurried anymore
If you ask, I’ll dance
The rise and fall of life and love
A ripple in the sea
A smile, a tear, the picture of
Time-past’s eternity

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Janet Martin

So What.....

The curtain was drawn
But I saw their shadows
Where the lamplight shone
From the pale gold windows
Staring at me; as if I were a waif
With no where to go
As if I were looking for love
What can windows know?
And so what if two figures
Blended as one
And I heard their laughter
While I was alone
I was simply passing
Out for some air
So what if they’re laughing
I don’t really care

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Janet Martin

Vexed.......

Why must you vex me so?
To forget you I have tried
But in the moonlights ruddy glow
I see you at my side

Why must you tempt me so?
I pretend not to hear
But in the breath of wind that blows
You whisper in my ear

Why must you hurt me so?
Ah, where is the green leaf?
The vibrant blossom falls like snow
With tears of my lone grief

Why must you leave me so?
Why do you come at all?
You pause a moment then you go
To answer autumns call

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Janet Martin

Here......

Here midnight meets the hint of dawn
Here joys and sorrow spill
This moment joins with memory
It’s aching and its thrill
Prayers of ink are pondered here
Upon this endless stage
Our pen, a feather or a spear
To touch this empty page

Here no man can silence thee
And freedom has no bounds
An eight by ten infinity
Where hope or heartache sounds
Here the lonely teardrop sighs
Here a dream is born
Here fantasy or anguish cries
And memories are torn

Here mans thought is traced in form
And silence bears a voice
Here those who read can ride the storm
By words of soundest choice
There is no far away or near
A universal stage
Where we can ever shed a tear
Upon an empty page

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Janet Martin

I Wanted to Tell you......

I wanted to tell you
I hate when you’re so far way
I want to feel like
An old blue sweater
On the arm of your chair
Comfortable and warm
And accustomed
To being there
And you like it that way


I wanted to tell you
I miss you……
Before you say good-bye
And I don’t know why
But August nights
Were meant for two
You…..and I
And sometimes a telephone
Just won’t do

I wanted to tell you
That maybe satisfaction
Lies in the hunger
And the dream
And being younger
Is not all it may seem
I wanted to tell you
I love you…..but I
Heard myself saying….good-bye

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Janet Martin

The Call.....

The front porch
Was too small
On a night
Like last night
We preferred
Wide open fields
And a blanket
Of starlight
We preferred taking
To wanting
And the august night
Was there,
Taunting
Free for the taking
A solitary offering
She held out her hand
We were willing
Words were
Common weeds
The hush, a rose
Satisfying our needs
…..and woes
For a night like
Last night was
Not meant for sleep
We pitied the
Poor shadows
In slumber deep
Is time not
A running stream
Emptying itself
In eternity?
Was last night a dream?
…..or reality
Because the front porch
Was too small
And we heard
The August night call

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Janet Martin

Beautiful Thief

I love you, I hate you
Bittersweet pain
Raging wild fire
Cold driving rain
I love you, I hate you
What more can I say
Autumn, you steal my summer away

I love the burst of dusty blue
Passion on my tongue
It brings back memories of you
And being free and young
I love the flame that sweeps the hill
In orange and red and gold
I love the wind, I hate the chill
And thoughts of growing old

I love the rivers of purple and sage
Flowing in ditch and hollow
I pause on the ridge of middle age
Aware of what will follow
I love the sassy undertones
As branches toss and sway
I hate the thief of scarlet and bronze
Stealing my summer away

I love you, I hate you
Invisible duel
I laugh then I weep
Ah, fall is so cruel
I love you, I hate you
There is no other way
Your bewitching beauty
Steals summer away

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Janet Martin

Hey R~
Your comment got me to thinking.....
yes, I love Autumn too and I hate it!!!

Reluctant Realizations

Like warm silk, she passes by
I sense a sympathetic smile
But she will not meet my eye
For she knows it will be awhile
Before she reaches out her hand
And asks me, shall we dance
For she like I, is not in command
But at the mercy of time and chance

Her long flowing tresses have been shorn
Her vibrant eye is dull
And in her sigh a chill is born
For we can feel the pull
Of hours in waiting; waiting to shed
Sad reluctant tears
On a mournful autumn bed
As she softly disappears

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

The warm somber haze
Of sweet August days
Fills me with reluctant realization
Over the hill
Waits September’s chill
And summer’s evaporation