Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts

Monday, October 19, 2015

Autumnal Madrigal






Now births upon Yon’s beaming stratosphere
The essence of a Presence; Sacred Here
Where earth is smitten with plush quietness
Beneath the rags of summer’s raving tress

Now breaks the captive wake of circumstance
A madrigal of autumnal romance
Nature, the noiseless Victor strips its goal
Where Triumph’s surmount rolls shut like a scroll

Spartan, its overlay of echoes drips
Like Future replayed on foreigner’s lips
Where there is nothing new under the sun
Yet every end is a new Thing begun

Between the forecast and past’s jaded flame
Pursuit and surrender commence, Time’s game
Where the air like a thin blue veil is draped
And tucked across a pale, subdued landscape

© Janet Martin


Then, just for fun I shuffled some lines:)



Now births upon Yon’s beaming stratosphere
Beneath the rags of summer’s raving tress
The essence of a Presence; Sacred Here
Where earth is smitten with plush quietness

Now breaks the captive wake of circumstance
Where Triumph's surmount rolls shut like a scroll
A madrigal of autumnal romance
Nature, the noiseless Victor strips its goal

Spartan, its overlay of echoes drips
Where there is nothing new under the sun
Like Future replayed on foreigner’s lips
For every end is a new Thing begun

Between the forecast and past’s jaded flame
Where the air like a thin blue veil is draped
Pursuit and surrender commence, Time’s game
Plucked, tucked across a pale subdued landscape

© Janet Martin

 


Friday, October 2, 2015

The Awakening (OctPoWriMo)





 Inspired by this music video (hit mute then feel it) or don't
because the music is too good to miss!
linking to OctPoWriMo


Seeking half-smiled approval, he relents
And wakens a dream in her innocence

The wide-eyed friendship of childish ways
Plants stars in the blue of love’s student-gaze

Age-old Newness bewilders gravity
Surprising the heart with Discovery

…and as it has been since Time began
Boy learns to shoulder the call of a man

© Janet Martin

also inspired by this day:)



 Let's Dance

A gold cello stirs
Dawn's cobalt deep
Unfolding dreamers
From cotton-clad sleep

It rends
Time’s ageless Overpass
With liquid notes
of broken glass 

Earth's vestibule
Of trees and streets
Unfurls a ballroom
Beneath feet

© Janet Martin

...and one more, just because it's fun:)


Crepe coverlets
cradle rainbows
before the bloom
breaks free

Your glance
grazes my skin
and wakens
the woman
in me~ 

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Hey Girls, I Have an Idea



After reading Dayle's post here it inspired me to send a love-note to hubby. Wanna join in the fun and do it too? Let our better-halves know how much we love them!
 Sometimes/too often I fail to tell him, assuming he knows, but I think they want to hear it as much as we do, right?

Sometimes I seem   to overlook
the big things I should do
like stop a moment
just to say
I love
you

J~


Wednesday, April 24, 2013

On Autopilot



April PAD Challenge: For today’s prompt, write an auto poem. Auto could mean automobile, automatic, automaton, or any number of possibilities.

She turns her hands to auto-pilot
Wipes the counters, sweeps the floor
Folds the laundry while she travels
To the bliss of sun-swept shores
Her hands remain upon their chores

She turns her feet to auto-pilot
Sink to fridge to stove; repeat
While she treads the path of duty
Venice and Brazil compete
The greens in Ireland are sweet

When she is in auto-pilot
She has prayed her children home
Designed gardens and surprises
Traversed Austria and Rome
...or perhaps, written a poem

I wave to those on auto-pilot
Shaking mats, watering plants
They smile with envy as I wander
To the pier where sunbeams dance
MOM! DID YOU DO LAUNDRY? I NEED PANTS!

Janet:)




Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Evolvements~



 

You have become
My tender-most part
A tear in my eye
And an ache in my heart

You have become
My beautiful dread
Half-smile on my lips
Love-song in my head

You have become
My perfect romance
Held in the arms
Of thought's gentle dance

You have become
My bittersweet bliss
A sweet memory
Of what no longer is

© Janet Martin

Monday, December 3, 2012

Love Language




 
Seems like our words
Can be hit or miss
Sometimes we need
The language of a kiss

Words can fall short
Or be misunderstood
The language of a kiss
Says things I never could

Its nice to speak words
Like ‘I love you’
But sometimes the language
Of a kiss will do

© Janet Martin

Friday, November 30, 2012

Come Morning Light





The night is empty
Save for the swoon
Of shadow and silver
Beneath the full moon

I should be dreaming
Tucked warm in my bed
But I choose the high noon
Of midnight instead

Fantasy swirls
Like the steam from my cup
Women become girls
When the moon is up

Infinitely gentle
The hands of the night
And I’ll be a woman
Come morning light

© Janet Martin

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Of 'Hopeless Semantic' Scribbles...

and yes, I'm a hopeless romantic too;))
(have you done this? I know I have; not with a camera but while I wait on my daughters at the mall)

It was meant to be
my relationship with you
vowels, consonants
woven into
a whimsical wish
or a beautiful dance
of passion, desire
and romance
Of wisdom, surrender
of fantasy
and oh, darling
of endless possibility

 Janet Martin

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Of Pinnacles and Passion




Are you disappointed?
He gazed tenderly
Into her eyes
Where first they met
Last night
In a dream

Are you disappointed?
He thought she had not heard
So her arms wrapped
Around his neck
And she replied
Without a word

J~

Friday, September 16, 2011

In Between


We walked through that field together
You and I
Urged by the restless weather
And the shifting sky
Desiring nothing but the warmth of each other
As our hands touched; that’s all
In this middle season of no longer summer
And not yet fall

The trees were poised for their grand disrobing
The chill on the breeze
Roused our minds toward dancing firelight
And evening and poetry
As we passed rows of corn stretching for miles
Like ragged infantry
And flowers relaxing their fullest smiles
Content to sleep peacefully

The bright-cheeked orchards groaned
As we meandered by
The vast emptiness of waiting moaned
As we lay beneath its sky
A sky leaning ever toward the tug of winter
But we disregard it all
As we lie in a field of no longer summer
But not yet fall

Janet Martin