What Might Have Been........

Not for us to plead
For brilliant field
Or question cold and
Grievous streams
Tumbling by.......
All the fruit
That thought can yield
And all the yearning
Of vague dreams
In barren reaches lie
Does wisdom fall
To those who patiently abide
Trusting higher Hands
Life's undulating echoes call
Across the shifting tide.......
Life's shadows dance
And shimmer on time's whitewashed sands
With joy and sorrow drifting low
A transcient sheen
Not for us to clutch within our hands
The elusive glow
Of what might have been

What Was It?

What was it about that night?
Was it the way the pale blue moonlight
Was slightly diffused by the ragged cloud
That hung like a muse or a misty shroud
On the Shoulder of the autumn eve
Or was it the sight of that lingering leaf
Shivering like a lonely Straggler on the street
That is silent now, though all day busy feet
Moved by Him, and no one said ‘hello’
Was it the Sigh of the naked willow?
Or was it the ivy that clung to the wall
Where I could see the Shadow fall
Of the tree where the lonesome leaf still clung
And far-off on the breeze the town clock strikes one
And I should be sleeping like the fit and the wise
But for some reason slumber evades my eyes
For I cannot forget that mood in the air
Akin to that night I met You there
Ah yes, I remember it now…I do
What made that night special; it was You

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

I Suppose............

I suppose this searing, tender, yearning
gut-wrenching, inexplicable timeless ache
Beginning in my heart and spreading out to
the tips of every finger
is simply the part of love
that lingers
to remind me of how incredibly
incomparable to any other emotion....
.............love is
It cannot be described as a feeling
though initially it may leave us reeling
it indwells us like a Being,
It is the wonder with which we weep,
forgive, continue,cherish, caress, let go...
and yet forever keep
It is the hope which lets us feel
I suppose with love pleasure and pain
are eternally intertwined.....
I suppose................
I love you

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

No Words............

For all the deepness of a sigh
For all the weeping of the sky
For all the fondness in my eye
There are no words
For all the memories that I hold
For all the music, silent, cold
For all the yearning thought untold
There are no words

Janet Martin

Stepping Stones

We step on them in
Our fixed determination
To get to where we’re going
Our eyes focused
On our purpose and destination
And that’s too bad
Because hearts have never made
Good stepping-stones
We turn………
Our intent
To return the way we came
But instead
All that remains
Is a sea of red

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Janet Martin

Helpless....

I can never give too much
And I can never get enough....
Love
I cannot tire of its touch
Keeps me fragile, makes me tough......
Love
I cannot hold on to it
But I cannot let it go
It's harder to love a little bit
To love but never let it show
I've learned a few things about
Love
It can hurt; it can be rough
But no one ever showed me how
To un-love
It's hard to love sometimes, I know
But it's harder to un-love
And let love go

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Janet Martin

Solitary Confinement....

The solitude
Of a self-erected prison
Is indeed lonesome
The cold iron bars
Put carefully in place
Simply cannot keep out
The shadow of a face
Or the echo of a sigh
As the days, months and years
Pass silently by

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Leaves.............

Leaves...........
If they were leaves
they would drift
aimlessly, on the breeze
then settle at last at our feet
or be that miniature raft
on a rippling avenue
its destiny; the great big sea
or a forgotten shore
where they would never be remembered
anymore
If they were leaves I could
gather them and burn them......
Destroy them.......
They would be so numerous
with none significant
in a soundless descent.......
and eventually
the last leaf would fall.......
and there would be
nothing
left
at all.................
to remind me of you
But thoughts are nothing like leaves
There will never be a last one to fall.........
and no matter how many thoughts compile
they will never be too numerous
to bury or crowd out
or make insignificant
my
every
thought
of you

~Janet Martin~