Venice

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFl7L4j5bpM&feature=endscreen&NR=1
(this video sparked the following poem)

The architecture

In the nest of a dove

Is lovely to the spectator

That is in love…

We were lost in blue that day

Blue sky and blue sea

But all I really remember

Were your blue eyes watching me

There was sound all around

But we didn’t hear

As the gondoliers hailed each other

I felt your lips on my ear

And the wind swooping through the canal

Rousing rivulets of desire

As the sun fell, a molten ball

Melting across the water

While we glanced sympathetically

At stragglers on the pier

Lost in books and newspapers

Or envious stares...

The architecture

In the nest of a dove

Is breath-taking

To the spectator in love

We didn’t need Venice

To make us smile

But I think Venice needed us

Just for a little while…

J~

And Here We Dance...

She tilts her head

In delightful laughter

While words like Sicily and Rome

Roll off her lips

As if they were

Her summer homes

And so they have been

Held between fingertips

As she turns the pages

In a scene

Of people and marketplaces

Where she has stood on shaded terraces

To watch the sun set

Over rolling vineyards

He comes to her now

Against the cool blue

Mediterranean backdrop

But poetry is not enough

To bridge the ocean

Or the deserts

Between hunger and love

Though her throat is parched

With burning of necessity

She is sandwiched

Between tumbled Canadian sky

And golden bars of sunlight

Sprawled across umber fallow

In the encroaching eventide

They dance; Sinatra knows every word

To her thoughts

And eyes will always speak more openly

Than the ineptness of speech

As she feels his heartbeat

Against her chest

In mutual anguish

And tenderness

For imminent departure

Is surely love’s

Most passionate threshold

Nobody visits this lighthouse

It is too late and too cold

They have all night to dance

And say good-bye.

She closes the book...

The clock in the tower strikes nine

J~

Unwrapping Moments

She watches
Caught between the present
And the past
As her son’s awkward
Attempts at gift-wrapping
Bring laughter from us
And mumbling from him…
As he wraps
She unwraps
Moments
Stored sacredly
Where she can ponder them
In her heart
Moments being fashioned
Into memories
Even now
By hands
Caught somewhere between
A boy
And a man…

Janet~

It’s a tender-sweet stage…13.
The other night I asked him what was so funny
And his instant reply was unexpected…
“mom, guy humor”
And he never did tell me!

The verse below has been one of my favorites, for as long as I can remember..
Our hearts, the place we store our most cherished thoughts.

But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

Off the Cuff #3

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/12/thttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhursday-think-tank-78-off-cuff.html

Focus, she commanded
And tapped my head sharply with her pointer stick
I stared at the numbers blankly
And composed an answer, double-quick
How could I make her understand
My senses were merely blurred
By the alluring, blissful enchantment
Of this beautiful thing called a word?

Janet~

Off the Cuff #2

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2011/12/thursday-think-tank-78-off-cuff.htmlhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Oh, yes they are free
They don’t cost you a dime
All they take from you
Is a small thing known as Time

Oh, yes they are free
This torturous chain
Of consonants and vowels
Life’s most pleasing pain

So if they should taunt
Grab them by their guile
And turn them into
Your personal style

Janet

Good Morning...

I feel you pressing into me
With warm translucent sigh
As fingertips, more sensed than seen
Brush slumber from the sky

You do not tap my window pane
Yet I know you are there
Whispering to me in the rain
And softening the air

You rouse me from unconsciousness
And yet you never speak
But kindly tug night’s blanket back
To smile against my cheek

I’ve never seen you quite like this
So I have one request
Before you slip into the mist
Help me to do my best


Janet

It is an unseasonably warm and rainy morning.

Slow Dancing to Life's Music

Barefoot and blue jeans
Does it get any better
Favorite music
My old, worn sweater
Little girl slipping
Her hand into mine
I turn to kiss her
But she’s grown up and gone
And the flip-side of loving
Is sweet memories
So I dance to life’s music
In faded blue jeans
As I recall what I love
And what I miss
Oh does it get any better than this?



Five o’clock shadow
Caressing my cheek
Darling, there are no words
Left to speak
Full moon reminding me
Of all that is not
And how much is missing
In all that I’ve got
And waiting is longer
Than than it used to be
But struggle makes us stronger
If love is the key
As hope fills the hollow
Of things that I miss
Oh, does it get any better than this?

Bare feet and blue jeans
Deep blue full moon night
Desire and duty
And dreaming take flight
My head on your shoulder
Your hand finding mine
Let’s slow dance, darling
I know we’ll be fine
For all that we have
Out-weighs what is not
Oh, what a beautiful
Love we have got
As you hold me closer
Dancing is bliss
Oh, does it get any better than this?

Janet~

To miss is to love...

Beneath the Same, White Moon

Beneath the dark umbrella of night
Silence is amplified
As sound becomes the keener sight
And thought a swift-winged ride

Beneath its wide seamless canopy
As present and past entwine
Thoughts of you keep me company
And oh, your company is fine

Beneath the backdrop of the dawn
Life's imminent history
I wonder where the years have gone
And what is yet to be

Beneath the pining of the dark
As whispers ache and bleed
My thought ignites a sudden spark
And longing becomes need

Beneath the same, still, silent sky
Beneath the same white moon
I wonder where you are tonight
And will you be home soon…


J~

I took the kids out for a final shopping trip last night..
It was special, fun.
The night was glorious and still after excitement was lulled to dreamland
and mother stood on the porch drinking in the night sky(and coffee)...
(there is a reason my blogs contain the word 'porch')
on its step I ponder, reflect, and for me thought bleeds in one medium...poetry;))
thus a short-lived resolve not to write for a while. If the break happens, it happens and if not then it was not meant to be
Blessings~