Monday, November 13, 2017


This blip betrothed to He who grants the dance of sun on shadowed leaf
Who knows firsthand the sands that stir oceans of sentimental grief
Who splays dusk-grays on russet climes and times his yes and no just so
Mercy and misery entwined as by His faithful grace we go

This wait-and-see and wake-and-sleep and wonderment without reprieve
Tulle crepuscule of push and pull and highlights that we love and leave
Where undertones in overtures and epilogues sear and caress
As blues and golds fold and unfold into beholden happiness

These hours spurred, lent, bent and blurred and undeterred; starred, scarred, oh my
Have suffered hard and buffered soft, tribal assault of sob, smile, sigh
Where menial and noble in the hand become what they will be
When God tallies the sum of ‘inasmuch as ye did it to me

© Janet Martin

..a few 'teardrops' from my sentimental ocean:)

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