October Falls in Rain

October falls in rain today

She drowns the yard with yellow leaves

And courts high-noon in mourner’s gray

Yet drips in diamonds from the eaves

Where all the colors of the world

Gather in legions at her feet

Because October is unfurled

With girlish sorrow; bittersweet

October weeps in poetry

An epilogue of leaf- shaped tears

That draws the reader to a sea

Of autumn sweeping over years

And in its undertow of plumes

And orchard-ghost-town thoroughfares

A soul-song of summer entombs

The looms that spun bloom-brocade chairs

October unravels her crown

With rivers running wild through trees

It turns umbrellas upside-down

And fills spilled rills with memories

Of once-upon-a-summer’s-day

When all the world was flower-twined

Before October's rainy day

That wove a trail of leaves behind

© Janet Martin

Watching October Exhale...(a mother's careful lament)

I was caught off-guard by a sudden flash-back of a tousled blonde head as I messaged Melissa

 (away at school now but then the one in front in pink who loved picnics!)

  with a keep-warm-and-dry-hug on this Very Dark, Rain-windy October morning 

Dazzled by frames of October

With face pressed to the air

Of fall-graces, her heart-pieces scatter

Like yellow leaves lying where

Once, without second-glances

Love-letter afternoons fell

While she laughed through summer’s slow-dances

And time was a festival

Of picnics and playthings and kisses

Its Common-ground, turquoise-gold

(At least, now, as she reminisces)

Like flowers that fell through her hold

Or hours ordained for departure

She, powerless to prevail

Presses Her face to Thought’s Artwork

And watches October exhale

© Janet Martin

October Whimsy

Earth is a leaf-swaddled garden

The wind is a minstrel, lost

And every field a silent sea

That once his baton tossed

Dusk is a maiden weeping

Over the countryside

Bereft of blushing lilies, Love,

Where summer’s laughter died

We are both Wonder and Wanting

Caught between smiles and tears

The sky, a yawning awning where

October disappears

Time is a cello, bronzed-yellow

We are its grin of grief

The wind is a crestfallen fellow

Because earth is a leaf

© Janet Martin

With forecasts of Hurricane Patricia's leftovers passing through today, yester-dusk Victoria and I decided to get out for a hike before the fields turn to pure mud...

The ache of 'almost November' (captured perfectly at YDP today) was prevalent everywhere...

Like a Kiss

From scaffolding of age-to-age

God hangs the dawn, a virgin page

In spite of Yester’s sullied stage

His mercy knows no holds

But lavishes our discontent

With hope in all His glory lent

Where Time’s appointed sacrament

Fills broken bowls with gold

Morning’s celestial paradise

Draws Wonder’s unstoppered ‘oh mys’

A pure and perfect common prize

That none deserves, and yet

God, because of immortal love

Would all of earth and heaven move

With nail-pierced Hands so He could prove

What we dare not forget

Then, like a kiss on Time’s lament

He ravishes its firmament

With mercy’s tireless testament

Morning, a glory train

From grace’s fathomless abyss

God forms a cup of willingness

And pours a glimpse of who He is

That sky cannot contain

© Janet Martin

Primed With Possibility

Forget the Past but not enough

To neglect lessons learned from it

The Future, poised upon its cast

Is nothing yet, but dreamer’s ‘if’

Not what we’ve done with what we had

Not maybe-maybe-this-or-that

But what we do with what we have

This is where all of life is at

Not what we wish we would have done

Or what we say that we will do

Before and After hinge upon

The Now, that wafts twixt blue-to-blue

Ah, monumental moment-mien

That tugs the rising-setting sun

Where we are always in between

What we will do and what we've done

© Janet Martin

What will we do with the Now we hold?

Everything depends on this! 

...this 'primed-with-possibility-Present!

...and what is 'This'? 

This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.

Ps.118:24