Ode to the Seasons

If I had only one year left to live
I would thank Spring
for bluebells woods and rainbows,
seen and unseen.

I would tell Summer
it means the world to me.
In Fall, I would plant a tree
under the silent stars.

Leaf on the wind,
I would ask Winter
to give me for Christmas
only one Night more,

and like a child
enthralled by the Lights
I would write in the snow
love letters with many forevers.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Enfance (Childhood)

A colored pencil in his hand
and freckles on his face,
and the Night sky as a notebook
for newly learned words,

I recognize him, could he recognize me?

At that time, every drop of rain
was a tear of God,
and every house in his drawings
had a window on the true World.

Now only the memories remain.

Between grief and grace
there is almost no difference.
Enfance,
blessed motherland,

why do we have to leave you?

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The Piggy Bank

When we reach the age of reason
every one of us is given
a piggy bank.

It is a treasure box, a porcelain Heart
destined to be broken
on our last Day.

I wish I could fill up mine
with jingling words like
caring and sharingspring and beginning

and not with coins of bitterness,
for Love is the true richness
the only wealth that really matters!

© Frédéric Georges Martin