Perfectly Blue

PAD Challenge Two-for-two Tues; Write a realism poem Write a magical poem

That magical moment

Clear out of the blue

When my heart skips a beat

At the thought of you

Jolt to reality

…bittersweet bliss

The grand realization

Of what no longer is

Tick-tock proof tango

Perfectly blue

One part me

The other part

You~

© Janet Martin

Caught in the Becoming of You...

PAD Challenge two-for-two-Tues:

• Write a realism poem. A poem that is rooted in the real world. Or…
• Write a magical poem. A poem that incorporates magical or fantastical elements

No abracadabra will bring you to me

No wand can rearrange history

Nor can I fold with a wink of my eye

Miles gaping cold between you and I

No spell can force from your lips thought unheard

Laughter and love are not tricked into word

Black-scarlet cape, the illusionist’s cloak

Cannot obliterate horrors we spoke

Night is a deep velvet hat, but the years

Cannot reverse where its dark disappears

Thought-blood of sorrow is not red, but blue

Its potent river unscathed by voodoo

You are unreachable, no hex or charm

No metamorphosis manifests form

Ethereal harbor of mystic appeal

Time’s transformation from real to surreal

I’ve never touched you and yet you become

My every whisper and deed I have done

Darling, you tease me with echoes; your kiss

Ravaging eons of what no longer is

I cannot gather you nor hypnotize

That which is bent on streamlining your sighs

Yet here in my hand your threads tremble, gold-gray

Waiting to weave your corpus; Yesterday

© Janet Martin

Matrix of Memories

Poured into the mold of Moment

Supple season-serenade

Tick-tock shell; ethereal advent

Of a memory being made

Trip and tumble, wander, squander

Dredging deeps and skimming surf

Touch and treasure, moment-measure

Time's touch-down on transient turf

Wish and wonder, pray and ponder

Free-fall from a fount of air

Sip and savor, Mercy’s favor

Spills and fills in half-breath fare

Drip and dangle, silver spangle

Garnishing laughter and tears

Sanguine sorrow none can borrow

Brushing bygones into years

Poured into a mold of Moment

Sacred, soundless sparkles sift

Matrix of tender-sweet torment

Where a life of memories drift

© Janet Martin

I was out putting cages around pink peony-points peeping through the earth:)! 

Suddenly an over-whelming sense of bittersweet washed over me as I recalled tugging them out, tossing them on a pile, tasting tears of letting go as I was re-living moments of summer, wedding, life etc...

Settling Matters

 PAD Challenge day 28: write a 'settle' poem

Sun settles twixt shadows

Dew settles on grass

Thought settles on matters

That soon too shall pass

Want settles on nothing

Dust settles on sod

Where rain settles dust

Hope settles on God

Love settles on others

Lust settles on Self

Time settles in pages

On history’s shelf

Sea settles twixt shorelines

Hen settles on brood

Trust settles on something

Not yet understood

Kiss settles on lips, love

Hearts settle on chance

Alone love, we hunger

Together we dance

© Janet Martin

Beneath the Leaning Sky

PAD Challenge day 28: Write a settled poem

When morning strikes her match

Beneath the leaning sky

It seems to me we almost catch

A twinkle in God’s eye

For Goodness is not cupped

In midnight’s yearning deep

And where dusk’s settled verdicts supped

Now virgin hours leap

Beneath the leaning sky

Where morning’s yesterday

Delighted and bereaved our sighs

Grace kindly lights our way

And from God’s vaulted thought

Beyond mortal mind-grasp

He sweeps our yesterday to naught

And settles it as Past

It seems to me we catch

A glimpse of paradise

As Mercy unfetters a latch

In dungeon-darkened skies

The dust of practice runs

Has settled; on Time’s shore

Pardon bestows another dawn

Like none ever before

A twinkle in God’s eye

Hope’s hallelujah spills

From ebony to gilt reply

Across celestial rills

Benevolence delights

The air as midnight-chains

Dissolve; God settles Mercy’s sights

Where time and hope remains

© Janet Martin

Where Dark and Light Collide

PAD Challenge day 27: write a monster poem

You slink between whispers

And hide beneath pillows

Tireless fiend, you torment and impose

Ill-favored presence

Wherever the essence

Of faith-flicker falters; you flaunt grim unknowns

You mock and scorn

Where Hope, tear-stained and torn

Clutches a candle and kisses dark seas

Devious fraud

As your sickle, a god

Unto the wicked, draws faith to its knees

Skeletal carcass

Wherever the dark is

Here, in your glory you unleash your breath

Pitiless reaper

And merciless schemer

Gathering souls for a harvest of death

  

We could not chance

Morrow’s imminence

Save for One greater to comfort and cheer

In vain you lash

Seething where demons thrash

For Faith in God grounded is greater than fear

© Janet Martin

The Shortfall of Mortal Love

Love, I would give you everything I have to have and hold

And promise ‘we’ will be enough until I’m very old

The wanting for your touch I pray would never fill or wane

Nor would I suffer very much if love should cause my pain

Darling, the satisfaction of man-woman melded heart

Would be enough forever, but for Love’s intrinsic Part

And just to have you need me would be its immortal prize

Its thrill my hallelujah and its kiss my paradise

Sweetheart, when love lives long enough it is life’s greatest wealth

For it has stood the test of time in sickness and in health

And as I run my fingers over lines betraying youth

I covet years to learn and earn its covenanted truth

…yet oh, for all the beauty that love’s have and hold imparts

It cannot placate wholly the hunger of human hearts

Love, I would render everything I have, to thee entrust

But, there is no salvation in a love twixt dust to dust

© Janet Martin

Mercy's Monument

You can never leave

Though our eyes no longer touch

Where once we held the Prime of life

And Innocence and such

You may think time forgets

Because distance expands

From miles and hours into years

Of echo-stricken sands

Love holds while it lets go

Farewell is not despair

But mercy’s muted monument

Of love turned into prayer

© Janet Martin~