Showing posts with label frost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frost. Show all posts

Monday, October 23, 2023

Of First Glances




If all was as pure as fall-morning's delight when earth is dipped in frost
First glance could indulge its appetite without ever weighing the cost

But Guile preys on First Glance, it seems, to captivate its prey
 Then test the quests that Want esteems with very subtle sway

 For all is not pure as fall-morn's delight, when earth is dipped in frost
Where first glance indulges its appetite without ever weighing the cost




At first glance, Guile seems to tick the right boxes
A fine façade can play tricks on the eye
But oh, my dear, be on guard for sly foxes
Tickling Thought’s tendrils of reason awry

Study the fruit of the tree, trace its branches
Past the entrancing sigh of wind through leaves
Past the impressions offered to first glances
Past the distraction attraction achieves

Guile, though it smiles, is still, just a smooth-talker
Sin, clothed in lamb’s wool does not make it pure
Vice, masquerading as Nice, is a mocker
Tempting gullible first glance with its lure

…that seems at First-Glance to tick the right boxes
Making us second guess That Still Small Voice
Whispering, ‘Oh! be aware of sly foxes
Teasing Thought’s tendrils of reason to Choice

© Janet Martin







When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food 
and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, 
she took some and ate it. 
Gen.3:6

Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, 
our vineyards that are in bloom.
Song of Solomon 2:15



 

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Hoar-frost Heaven...


These photos turned out to be just the start of Jack Frost's artwork
on Sunday morning!
By the time we left for church wonder was dizzy with delight, 
gazing hither and yon upon sheer perfection!
(More photos here)





Frosty fringes gild glossed hinges of a weathered winter-gate 
Gracing fences, tracing branches with vestige of crystal lace 
Teasing poets with a show of nature’s ‘look but do not touch’ 
Where the air is fairly bursting with the font of Jack Frost’s brush 

Worship thunders where awe wonders at frost-fretwork whisper-thin 
Earth showcasing interlacing detail of woven welkin 
Where nothing is ordinary or of very lowly class 
As we gaze in sheer amazement at a landscape etched in glass 

Hoar-halation crowns creation with boreal ambience 
Woodlands glisten with impressions of angel-host radiance 
Hill and hollow frilled and swaddled in a dazzling vertigo 
Once again and without question nature’s pageant steals the show 

Once again its flawless anthem raises praises to the One
Who is Alpha and Omega and will never be outdone
So we stutter from this gutter of utter depravity/dependency 
Where a vision of redemption grants a glimpse of purity 

© Janet Martin 


“Come now, and let us reason together,” Says the LORD,
 “Though your sins are like scarlet, They shall be as white as snow;
 Though they are red like crimson, 
They shall be as wool.
Isa.1:18

Purify me with hyssop, and I will be clean; 
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

Thursday, February 4, 2021

While The Rest of Heaven Waits...



Good Evening! 
It's been a busy day starting with a most stunning sunrise and sparkle-world...










When the world is washed with sparkles

And the morn is like a cloak

Softly draped in misty purple

Over hemlock, birch and oak

We feel like a bit of heaven

Somehow spilled through pearly gates

Making life so worth the livin’

While the rest of Heaven waits

© Janet Martin

...and ending with my very first attempt at 



It was a hit! 
My version was loosely based on the above link;



 




Friday, December 20, 2019

Shroud-wowed








You tossed a mantle made of frost across the earth; gilt crook and crease
Each common twig and sprig transformed into a perfect masterpiece
Each fringe and frond etched or ensconced in diamond-studded mezzotint
And we are lost in worlds unfurled with here a swirl and there a glint

You steal our breath; the seal of death is something that none can revoke   
Yet wakes in us an ache that started with the first words that you spoke
And since the dawn of time we climb the aftermath of ‘let there be
To be wowed by a cloud, a shroud of stars, a frost-flossed tree

…a rolling sea of seasons as it woos us with its ebb and surge
Where we are drawn from dawn-to-dawn in a marriage of laud and dirge
As the carriage of dust-to-dust turns wanderlust to sacred awe
For we begin to taste the winning haste of Numbered Day’s Established Law

By the time we reckon this rhyme we’ll both we nearer than before
To the farewell that rends this shell with that which was and is no more
Where now nature still thunders with wonder’s unequivocal Sire
He tossed a mantle made of frost across the earth; gilt sprig and spire

© Janet Martin