Whispers

You are Saturday morning slipping, silky and soft

You hide in wee babies and hover aloft

You burn in my being and mock in my mirror

Subtle and searing and ever much dearer

You murmur in kisses of heartache and strake

Thieving caresses, you give as you take

Synchronized whispers of future and past

Letting you go while holding you fast

You twirl me in dances of darling delight

Roguish romances I cannot requite

Music of memories, you waft like a ghost

Stealing the moments I cherish the most

I want to touch you; look into your eye

Intangible presence I cannot deny

But ever you sever the thread in my hand

While gently unraveling from ethereal strand

You test my devotion and try my desire

Echoing ocean of invisible fire

Leaving behind you love’s prized pantomime

But I cannot find you; oh whisper of Time

© Janet Martin

Fire and Ice...

  

Love and hate,

Guilt and peace,

Pride and humility,

Grace and greed,

Truth and lies,

Contentment and envy,

Faith and fear,

Joy and jealousy,

Life and death

Cannot co-exist in one being

One obliterates the other

© Janet Martin

Love Laughs...and Cries

She tells us she’s engaged

Proudly showing her ring

We hug her saying ‘wow, oh my’

Then we laugh

And cry

She counts the weeks, days, hours

Until the big day

And we all try to be happy while

We laugh

And cry

Time dashes through households

Stealing ribbons and curls from little girls

As we scold, hug, hold, sigh

We laugh

We cry

She shows me the song they’ve chosen

For their wedding

And she tells me why

And I laugh

And I cry

Love is life’s moment-music

Heart-beat percussion in perfect time

While we flounder, free-fall, fumble and fly

We laugh

And cry

© Janet Martin

Yes, love laughs and cries. When Emily announced her engagement Victoria hugged her and cried. Yesterday a neighbor/friend dropped in and she told me she feels so guilty for feeling so sad that Emily won’t live here anymore. On Saturday morning I hugged my middle daughter who is up north at a kid’s camp for a week, smiles with tears… Last week while my sister’s kids were here I clutched at sorrow tugs; at how BIG every one is getting and I had moments of quiet tear-wiping. Just now Emily showed me the song they chose for their ceremony and she explained to me why, then they laughed as they turned to see me listening to it and wiping a river of tears from my face so I start laughing too…love can me such a mess sometimes:0

Yesterday at lunch I noticed that barely a minute passed that Victoria didn’t glance up at Emily…(this pic is blurry but I had to take it quick before they noticed me. )

Perfect Temperature

  

Image Source

It’s too hot to garden

Or scrub the floor

It’s too hot to paint

The weathered back door

It’s too hot to exercise

Or polish window-glass

Or go shopping

Or pick currants

Or cut the grass

Or do dishes, or bake

Or make anything besides

Coffee and lemonade

It’s too hot to prune shrubs

Even in the shade

Or do laundry or sweep porches 

Or wander the hills

To pick wild flowers

Its too hot to pay bills

Its too hot to can anything

Or to have an appetite

Too hot for cooking

We'll BBQ tonight

…But wait!

I think,

Ah yes,

I think

It might be

M-m-m-m-H-m-m-m!

I believe

That it

Just might

Be

The perfect temperature

To write

…and write

and

Write

Poetry

© Janet Martin

...couldn't resist:) It's what popped in my head as I was contemplating what to do today.

Of Summer's Songs

 Summer-song spikes leaf-canopies, laughing mischievously...

Summer-song spills from earthen gills

And minstrels from the sky

It spawns the bloom from nature’s tomb

And strums the willow-sigh

Summer-song seeps from shadow-deeps

Where we do not trespass

The deep dark wood, its solitude

Laced with mosquito-sass

Summer-song drifts in moment-gifts

Of hazy, honeyed sun

Where tumbling-bee drinks languidly

From spigots heaven-spun

Summer-song flows between corn rows

It presses on our backs

With tawny grin kissing our skin

And scorching muddy tracks

Summer-song sighs in butterflies

In ripples on the street

It fills night’s noon with misty moon

And tickles our bare feet

Summer-song drips from slow cloud-ships

Crooning on sea and sod

A serenade, sweet, heaven-made

Its Maestro is God

© Janet Martin

Of Tomorrow's, Today's and...Eternity(there's no plural in Eternity)

When we wake, what was tomorrow

Now has become our today

Moments of ‘past-present’ drifting

An intangible foray

Now eyes open and tomorrow

Spawns a fresh and mystic page

While yesterday’s tomorrow gleams

Beneath our feet; an open stage

...where life’s unknowns spill in moments

Moment-mysteries unfold

Writing memories and memoirs

In its ink of gray and gold

And soon again eyes close in slumber

…tomorrow becomes today

Kaleidoscope of pain and pleasure

Slipping into yesterday

When we wake, what was tomorrow

Is today; so it will be

Until we waken in the morning

Of God’s vast eternity

© Janet Martin

Life is that thread between yesterday and eternity .

As I was drifting off to sleep last night I remember thinking ‘when I wake up it will be tomorrow’…and in my semi-wake state a picture flashed through my thought of what it might possibly be like when we open our eyes one last time…Forever.

One Race

We run this race together

The color of our skin

Does not define the person

No, this comes from within

Love does not choose or differ

But pours from heart and soul

And God creates the color

In which to wrap this whole

The color of the body

Is flesh; we all will pass

Like flowers in the garden

To dust beneath the grass

God did not choose one color

To offer Saving Grace

His love extends to one and all

Within the human race

Love does not see skin color

To hate is but to prove

Our ignorance and squalor

And utter need for Love

© Janet Martin

God has created only one race; it's called human. Dr. Alan Snyder

Jesus Loves the Little Children

Song of July

 Here are a few stanzas that captured my senses today...

Field of Queen Ann’s Lace and brook without babble

Garnet of half-moon, woodland lullaby

And over the morning the soft sweet adorning

Of dew on the garden and blue on the sky

Green in the valley and gold on the hillside

Holly-hock halos and musky-dusk sigh

Wild-flower wonder in innocent splendor

Hay in the meadow and dust in my eye

Sleepy bird sonnet and sunset surrender

Silver birch glimmer, bronze oceans of rye

Front porch reunion in twilight communion

This is the beautiful song of July

© Janet Martin

...and this last slurpiest one just a minute ago...