Friday, December 30, 2011

Where Do you Go and How?



Where and how do you go, old year?
Running and leaping and flying, my dear
Thrumming and sleeping and crying, it’s clear
You have one destination in mind
Dashing and dancing, a skip and a whirl
Grinning and glancing, a trip and a twirl
Crooning and moaning, a swish and a swirl
With only your thought left behind

Where do you go and how, dear sir
Spring, summer, fall and back to winter
Don’t close your eyes for time is a blur
And slips through your fingers with ease
Where do you go and how, old year
Fleeter your foot with age I fear
I'll cherish loved ones and hold them near
For Time offers no guarantees

Where do you go so swiftly now
Over the snow with the winds that blow
Never a curtsy, a wave or a bow
Silently into the night
You take your laughter, the longing and tear
Leaving our dream for the impending year
Parting is such sweet sorrow, my dear
Softly you slip out of sight

Janet~

New Year's Wish


Mary,
I'm borrowing my comment to you, but it is my wish for everyone who visits here...

May this year bring
in place of sorrow, healing
In place of tears, laughter
In place of loneliness,
friends and more friends,
In place of despair, hope
In place of the unknown...
...still, the unknown
For how else can we trust?

God Bless you in 2012.

Janet Martin

In Limbo


http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2011/12/marys-mixed-bag.html

It’s a tug-of-war of sorts to me

This holding on and letting go

Caught twixt the ache of history

And warm anticipation’s glow

The old year, like a crumpled ball

Of paper, rolls beneath our feet

We hear the bells of midnight toll

A farewell-greeting, bitter-sweet

Within our hearts, within our pen

Memory and expectation blend

Time does not seek applause from men

And it is neither foe nor friend

Ring out the old, ring in the new

Four seasons worth of living wait

For as we bid the old adieu

A virgin Year slips through Time’s gate

Janet Martin

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Time


This photo(source; photo-bucket) is by Clark Little. World renowned Wave Photographer.
Waves are a great metaphor for Time...it is, then was.


Time, a majestic wave rolling
over a realm of existence
It is more than a jest twixt sky and sod
Time pulls the sun from the east
hastening it westward
on our journey to timeless eternity
…and God

Time, a stage where man is spectator
to miracles held in
shadows slipping from twilight’s berth
the line of green hemlock
deepening to black
as The Hour draws midnight across
time-structured earth

Time, a vapor on the tip
of eternity's tongue
reminding us that today is the best we can hold
Time, a flickering prelude
to the great beyond
where no one is young
…or old

Janet~

The New Year always gets me to contemplating this thing called Time

All They Will Ever Be


http://www.youtube.com/wathttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifch?v=IwP476N-vOM&list=FLsqea52gOM17vOYBlwPVKvA&index=49&feature=plpp_video

Listening to music and writing is what I love best!

Maybe that’s all she will ever be
As she strolls across his memory
A picture, a post-card
A letter, a poem
A ‘hello, how are you?’
‘Are you calling from home?’
Maybe that’s all
Yes, maybe that’s all
All she will ever be

Maybe that’s all he will ever be
Someone to keep in her memory
An old tattered poem
In a drawer by her bed
Slow-dance to a song
That plays in her head
Maybe that’s all
Yes, maybe that’s all
All he will ever be

Maybe that’s all they will ever be
As they stroll through each other’s memory
Held in a photo
A whisper, a prayer
Nothing but memories
A-drift on the air
Maybe that’s all
Yes, maybe that’s all
All they will ever be

J~

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Sometime He Thinks I've Forgotten...


Sometimes he thinks I’ve forgotten
Then I tip-toe upstairs and peek in,
He opens his eyes just a tiny bit,
I see an almost-grin,
so I tell him he can’t really sleep
until I re-tuck the blankets
and then I hug him and tell him I love him
and he’s growing so tall
He says I smell like Doritos
and that he loves me too

Sometimes he thinks I’ve forgotten
and maybe I did
forget to tell him I would be home late
and I call him after midnight
He tells me he’s in Chicago
and the traffic is bumper to bumper
but the Cubs won in the 13th inning
and I smile at the other end
and I tell him that I love him
and he says he loves me too


Sometimes He thinks I’ve forgotten
and too often, I confess I do
life pushes past my good intentions
with distractions all dressed up like duty
and sensible reasons why
there will be more time to pray later
then He reminds me it is better to be faithful in little
than to be unfaithful in much
and I bow my head and tell Him I love Him
and He whispers, I love you too

Something New...


http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/wednesday-poetry-prompts-159

(my serious approach)

This year I’m going to start something new
I’m going to spend more time with you
You never complain at my slip-shod excuses
Or leave, though I’ve broken too many promises
You always wait until I find a minute
To pause and piously put you in it
Sometimes I wonder how you still love me
You would have plenty of reasons to leave
But you go on loving in spite of my choices
Though I dash off in reply to other voices
Then, when they are unfaithful or wander too far
I turn to find you and there you are
With your arms wide open to hold me near
You tell me I’m forgiven; brush away my tear
God, help me, I want to start something new
I want to spend more time with You

Janet~

Starting Something New



Poetics Aside has prompted us to write about a new start...

Come on hon, whaddaya say
Let’s put them ornery misgivin’s away
An’ let’s remember how pure an’ fine
Is this love we cherish like vintage wine

Let’s lay aside work that so easily besets us
An’ be easy-goin’ like them movie-lovers
You can tear off the table cloth iffen you wanna
I would sorta like a new set o’ china

We’ll dance on the ceiling or is it the floor?
You can shout ‘Karummba!’ and break down the door
Whaddaya say hon, wanna give it a whirl
An’ start somethin’ new with a kinda old girl?

Janet

A light-hearted approach;))
p.s. too much Beverly hill-billies, maybe?