Word Poetry
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Sample Poems by Martha Deborah Hall
The Closing
I walk across the hardwood floors again,
pack the last brass candlesticks,
set a housewarming plant by the door,
water the autumn's asters on the porch.
The pond water soon will turn to silver ice.
I pause by the mulberry tree where we buried Kappy's ashes.
The wind chime tinkles a final aria to me.
A deathless daisy waltzes in the garden.
I leave a good luck penny on the old brick walk.
Darkness draws down as I close the front gate,
a bouquet of yellow lilies from a neighbor
weeping in my arms.
Sea Glass
I am not going back to the ocean; I shall turn my back on the bay.
My sand castles have eroded. My pretend boat washed from shore.
I won't implore you, my traitor, my incurable sedater, my nevermore.
You hold my wish-skipped sea glass. You deny me every day.
Your waves won't lap over me as they did in my youth at play.
I won't go there anymore, won't cast out lines like I did before.
I won't whisper my secrets to you nor seek your advice anymore.
I'll stand alone with new dreams. The old life will have no say.
Release my hopes from grasses stretched across your busy land.
I must turn from you, shake loose from you, unwrap you from my arms.
I won't funnel tears into your vast well, allow them to ebb in course sand.
I reverse myself forever from your seductive charms.
My mooring line is cleated; it's twilight at the pier.
Adieu, my throbbing Atlantic'all I ever held dear.
West Of The Ocean, South Of The Moon
Gone carved initials in the maple tree.
Love's winding road did not wend our way.
Once wild, now tame, where does fulfillment flee?
Wherever I went, you were there with me.
High tides, then low, the high refused to stay.
Gone are carved initials in the maple tree.
No more speeding down Summer Hill on skis.
Pink cartons, stenciled high chairs now tossed away.
Once wild, now tame, love's embraces flee.
Splintered, the polished floors we waltzed on 'til 3.
Why refuse to accept what has had its say?
Gone carved initials in the maple tree.
No time machine can rewind this story.
Perdita, snowy ice drips on my face today.
Once wild, now tame, where does loyalty flee?
Latches on our hearts must have broken free.
All fantasy balloons have flown astray.
Gone carved initials in the maple tree.
Once wild, now tame, where does constancy flee?
Sunset
You take the torn
ticket from the Staten Island Ferry
and the map of the Central Park Zoo.
The pressed flowers from the Senior prom
I've wrapped and placed with your things.
Dig up the rose bush you planted years ago.
Give the gold and silver coins to the boys.
We'll save the ruby ring for our daughter.
Give me the pieces with the Queen Anne legs.
You can have the sleigh bed and table.
The 'go fast' boat in the harbor is yours.
We'll place the summer cottage for sale.
You can't have the memory of our first kiss
after our climb to the third floor landing
on Riverside Drive.
Your lips traced my cheek
like the breezy flutter
of a window shade brushing the sill.
Its warmth stays.
Lack Of Footwork
Our ballroom dance was with great precision.
What time of the year, do you remember'
Was it not in the month of September'
Open with tangos, was our decision.
We patterned our turns without revision,
cadence in full swing, action unlimbered.
Autumn dance steps tripped into December.
Contra steps now in the line of vision.
We danced apart at future cotillions,
pushed, sashayed away in formation bent.
Future moves lead back into stormy winds.
Raindrops bump off rooftops of pavilions.
All graceful flex appears to have been spent.
Twisting, then two-stepping, alone, I spin.
I'll Think Of You When . . .
crimson leaves fall and Sinatra sings 'September Song';
I browse at Red Chair Antiques where we got the wicker loveseat;
the kids and I climb Mt. Vernon Hill to fell a Christmas tree;
I walk to the pond alone to watch the children ice skate;
black-bellied plovers return to Smith Point Beach in Nantucket;
it's opening day for the swan boats at Boston Common;
I prune the weeping cherry tree by the side of our house;
I eat homemade vanilla ice cream topped with Hershey's syrup;
I look out the French doors as twilight descends.
The Closing
I walk across the hardwood floors again,
pack the last brass candlesticks,
set a housewarming plant by the door,
water the autumn's asters on the porch.
The pond water soon will turn to silver ice.
I pause by the mulberry tree where we buried Kappy's ashes.
The wind chime tinkles a final aria to me.
A deathless daisy waltzes in the garden.
I leave a good luck penny on the old brick walk.
Darkness draws down as I close the front gate,
a bouquet of yellow lilies from a neighbor
weeping in my arms.
Sea Glass
I am not going back to the ocean; I shall turn my back on the bay.
My sand castles have eroded. My pretend boat washed from shore.
I won't implore you, my traitor, my incurable sedater, my nevermore.
You hold my wish-skipped sea glass. You deny me every day.
Your waves won't lap over me as they did in my youth at play.
I won't go there anymore, won't cast out lines like I did before.
I won't whisper my secrets to you nor seek your advice anymore.
I'll stand alone with new dreams. The old life will have no say.
Release my hopes from grasses stretched across your busy land.
I must turn from you, shake loose from you, unwrap you from my arms.
I won't funnel tears into your vast well, allow them to ebb in course sand.
I reverse myself forever from your seductive charms.
My mooring line is cleated; it's twilight at the pier.
Adieu, my throbbing Atlantic'all I ever held dear.
West Of The Ocean, South Of The Moon
Gone carved initials in the maple tree.
Love's winding road did not wend our way.
Once wild, now tame, where does fulfillment flee?
Wherever I went, you were there with me.
High tides, then low, the high refused to stay.
Gone are carved initials in the maple tree.
No more speeding down Summer Hill on skis.
Pink cartons, stenciled high chairs now tossed away.
Once wild, now tame, love's embraces flee.
Splintered, the polished floors we waltzed on 'til 3.
Why refuse to accept what has had its say?
Gone carved initials in the maple tree.
No time machine can rewind this story.
Perdita, snowy ice drips on my face today.
Once wild, now tame, where does loyalty flee?
Latches on our hearts must have broken free.
All fantasy balloons have flown astray.
Gone carved initials in the maple tree.
Once wild, now tame, where does constancy flee?
Sunset
You take the torn
ticket from the Staten Island Ferry
and the map of the Central Park Zoo.
The pressed flowers from the Senior prom
I've wrapped and placed with your things.
Dig up the rose bush you planted years ago.
Give the gold and silver coins to the boys.
We'll save the ruby ring for our daughter.
Give me the pieces with the Queen Anne legs.
You can have the sleigh bed and table.
The 'go fast' boat in the harbor is yours.
We'll place the summer cottage for sale.
You can't have the memory of our first kiss
after our climb to the third floor landing
on Riverside Drive.
Your lips traced my cheek
like the breezy flutter
of a window shade brushing the sill.
Its warmth stays.
Lack Of Footwork
Our ballroom dance was with great precision.
What time of the year, do you remember'
Was it not in the month of September'
Open with tangos, was our decision.
We patterned our turns without revision,
cadence in full swing, action unlimbered.
Autumn dance steps tripped into December.
Contra steps now in the line of vision.
We danced apart at future cotillions,
pushed, sashayed away in formation bent.
Future moves lead back into stormy winds.
Raindrops bump off rooftops of pavilions.
All graceful flex appears to have been spent.
Twisting, then two-stepping, alone, I spin.
I'll Think Of You When . . .
crimson leaves fall and Sinatra sings 'September Song';
I browse at Red Chair Antiques where we got the wicker loveseat;
the kids and I climb Mt. Vernon Hill to fell a Christmas tree;
I walk to the pond alone to watch the children ice skate;
black-bellied plovers return to Smith Point Beach in Nantucket;
it's opening day for the swan boats at Boston Common;
I prune the weeping cherry tree by the side of our house;
I eat homemade vanilla ice cream topped with Hershey's syrup;
I look out the French doors as twilight descends.