Lydia Martin Poems

What the eye can see, is it really there?
Where are the clouds on sunny days
When dew buds glisten wet with haze?
Is there really a lark in the clear air?
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Dusty lanes like roads once travelled
Hold lasting lines of seamless dreams.
Paths of hope and future fancies
Twist and wind like rivers and streams.
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Starburst shine
Through the furnace within.
Rhythms of flashdance
Steal away my soul.
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A sea of tears cannot flood an empty heart.
An empty heart cannot hold enemy blood.
Blood of the enemy will never run dry.
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Red roasted rarities
Deliciously dripping
With anonymous sauces.
Salubrious Salmon
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Summer moods
Of swinging sister
Deliver smiles
Of red and gold.
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Black star bolt
Clap of light
Trigger of day
Paling with night.
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Rise up and strike like cavernous fire
As dust dawns on a distant setting moon;
Drag your feet from the grip of life’s mire
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When you open the box what do you see?
Four walls and a door without any key…..
When you reach inside and search more deeply
Don’t listen for the sound of emptiness….
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Oh wounder of spirit
Oh sculptor of danger.
In suited disgust
Am nought
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