Friday, December 30, 2011

Where Do you Go and How?

Where and how do you go, old year?
Running and leaping and flying, my dear
Thrumming and sleeping and crying, it’s clear
You have one destination in mind
Dashing and dancing, a skip and a whirl
Grinning and glancing, a trip and a twirl
Crooning and moaning, a swish and a swirl
With only your thought left behind

Where do you go and how, dear sir
Spring, summer, fall and back to winter
Don’t close your eyes for time is a blur
And slips through your fingers with ease
Where do you go and how, old year
Fleeter your foot with age I fear
I'll cherish loved ones and hold them near
For Time offers no guarantees

Where do you go so swiftly now
Over the snow with the winds that blow
Never a curtsy, a wave or a bow
Silently into the night
You take your laughter, the longing and tear
Leaving our dream for the impending year
Parting is such sweet sorrow, my dear
Softly you slip out of sight


New Year's Wish

I'm borrowing my comment to you, but it is my wish for everyone who visits here...

May this year bring
in place of sorrow, healing
In place of tears, laughter
In place of loneliness,
friends and more friends,
In place of despair, hope
In place of the unknown...
...still, the unknown
For how else can we trust?

God Bless you in 2012.

Janet Martin

In Limbo

It’s a tug-of-war of sorts to me

This holding on and letting go

Caught twixt the ache of history

And warm anticipation’s glow

The old year, like a crumpled ball

Of paper, rolls beneath our feet

We hear the bells of midnight toll

A farewell-greeting, bitter-sweet

Within our hearts, within our pen

Memory and expectation blend

Time does not seek applause from men

And it is neither foe nor friend

Ring out the old, ring in the new

Four seasons worth of living wait

For as we bid the old adieu

A virgin Year slips through Time’s gate

Janet Martin

Thursday, December 29, 2011


This photo(source; photo-bucket) is by Clark Little. World renowned Wave Photographer.
Waves are a great metaphor for is, then was.

Time, a majestic wave rolling
over a realm of existence
It is more than a jest twixt sky and sod
Time pulls the sun from the east
hastening it westward
on our journey to timeless eternity
…and God

Time, a stage where man is spectator
to miracles held in
shadows slipping from twilight’s berth
the line of green hemlock
deepening to black
as The Hour draws midnight across
time-structured earth

Time, a vapor on the tip
of eternity's tongue
reminding us that today is the best we can hold
Time, a flickering prelude
to the great beyond
where no one is young
…or old


The New Year always gets me to contemplating this thing called Time

All They Will Ever Be

Listening to music and writing is what I love best!

Maybe that’s all she will ever be
As she strolls across his memory
A picture, a post-card
A letter, a poem
A ‘hello, how are you?’
‘Are you calling from home?’
Maybe that’s all
Yes, maybe that’s all
All she will ever be

Maybe that’s all he will ever be
Someone to keep in her memory
An old tattered poem
In a drawer by her bed
Slow-dance to a song
That plays in her head
Maybe that’s all
Yes, maybe that’s all
All he will ever be

Maybe that’s all they will ever be
As they stroll through each other’s memory
Held in a photo
A whisper, a prayer
Nothing but memories
A-drift on the air
Maybe that’s all
Yes, maybe that’s all
All they will ever be


Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Sometime He Thinks I've Forgotten...

Sometimes he thinks I’ve forgotten
Then I tip-toe upstairs and peek in,
He opens his eyes just a tiny bit,
I see an almost-grin,
so I tell him he can’t really sleep
until I re-tuck the blankets
and then I hug him and tell him I love him
and he’s growing so tall
He says I smell like Doritos
and that he loves me too

Sometimes he thinks I’ve forgotten
and maybe I did
forget to tell him I would be home late
and I call him after midnight
He tells me he’s in Chicago
and the traffic is bumper to bumper
but the Cubs won in the 13th inning
and I smile at the other end
and I tell him that I love him
and he says he loves me too

Sometimes He thinks I’ve forgotten
and too often, I confess I do
life pushes past my good intentions
with distractions all dressed up like duty
and sensible reasons why
there will be more time to pray later
then He reminds me it is better to be faithful in little
than to be unfaithful in much
and I bow my head and tell Him I love Him
and He whispers, I love you too

Something New...

(my serious approach)

This year I’m going to start something new
I’m going to spend more time with you
You never complain at my slip-shod excuses
Or leave, though I’ve broken too many promises
You always wait until I find a minute
To pause and piously put you in it
Sometimes I wonder how you still love me
You would have plenty of reasons to leave
But you go on loving in spite of my choices
Though I dash off in reply to other voices
Then, when they are unfaithful or wander too far
I turn to find you and there you are
With your arms wide open to hold me near
You tell me I’m forgiven; brush away my tear
God, help me, I want to start something new
I want to spend more time with You


Starting Something New

Poetics Aside has prompted us to write about a new start...

Come on hon, whaddaya say
Let’s put them ornery misgivin’s away
An’ let’s remember how pure an’ fine
Is this love we cherish like vintage wine

Let’s lay aside work that so easily besets us
An’ be easy-goin’ like them movie-lovers
You can tear off the table cloth iffen you wanna
I would sorta like a new set o’ china

We’ll dance on the ceiling or is it the floor?
You can shout ‘Karummba!’ and break down the door
Whaddaya say hon, wanna give it a whirl
An’ start somethin’ new with a kinda old girl?


A light-hearted approach;))
p.s. too much Beverly hill-billies, maybe?

So Long Ago...

You scrawled your name upon my heart
And nonchalantly took your leave
To you its just forgotten art
But oh, my heart is not a tree

You took without a second thought
A tender vital part of me
I’m sure it’s something you forgot
But oh, my soul is not a tree

You played a round of daisy-love
My final petal said ‘love me’
You must have finished, ‘love me not’
And tossed the bloom beneath the tree…

…then scrawled your name upon my heart
On a surface none can see
To you its long-forgotten art
Scrawled on a long-forgotten tree


Poetry Jam invites us to put on music and write so I chose Moon River and wrote...
(link to song above)

Perfect Poet...

On my way home the fields deepened
From golden lakes to purple seas
On my way home a perfect poet
Wrote across the sky with ease
No words were needed to express
His depth of love, on my way Home
The Master breathed upon the west
And wrote for me a perfect poem


Eat it Slowly ...

(this poem was inspired as I read the poem at the link above)

Eat it slowly,
The poem you read
The book,
Savor the flavor
Don’t gulp it down
Without a second look
Eat it slowly
That full moon night
Just you and him
Soon the moon will slip beneath
Day's yawning brim
Drink it slowly
Purest love from
Little girl or bare-foot boy
Oh, they are so beautiful
Their smiles
A butter-cup of joy
And they want to be loved,
Not with a quick nod or glance
But to hold your hand
Do nothing
But eat life slowly
Laugh and dance
Eat it slowly,
This dish of wonder
This miracle of being; doing
For life is far too quickly over
To rush and gulp it
Without chewing


If you come to a pit just spit it out...and keep chewing slowly,
extracting every bit of flavor from every bite...the key to health and happiness!


Child’s face plastered against an ethereal pane
Dark, hollow eyes follow me everywhere
A haunting plea of misery and pain
A cry, unheeded hangs on stricken air
Of hunger, hopelessness and stark despair

A world of things looms far across the sea
Oblivious to his wail of poverty
Where excess is the fount of discontent
While greed becomes a noose of misery
Across the sea a small child’s hope is spent


A Dizain

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Thoughts Between Sleeping

Turning a blind eye to the truth…
…does not alter it.

It is in admitting defeat, not in waking…
…that separates the dreamer from the dream.

Truth is not an opinion or an option…It IS

If every snowflake ever that fell
Would symbolize a year in heaven or hell
…it would still in completion be
But the first breath of eternity

If we handled every moment
As though it could be our last
We would not bear the torment
Of a could-have, should-have past

Fat, thin
Short, tall
Lord God
Made us all

To wish for what is not
Is to waste what is

Harsh words are claw-scratches on a tender soul

There is no darkness so fierce, that a spark cannot pierce.

Have you ever watched the twilight move in?
It takes layers of darkness to extinguish light
And one little star to dispel utter darkness


I can't remember all of them, but it seemed like words pressed sleep from my eyes last night, resulting in a series of dozes rather than sound sleep...too much sitting/eating, perhaps?


Her name doth not bespeak her guild
Her countenance of mystery
Maiden, both tender and strong-willed
The fore-runner to history
Just one humble four-letter word
To sum a twelve-month portal
Of grief and healing, joy and hurt
Weaving her gown immortal
We ponder, as we tread upon
The remnant of her garment
Translucent threads from dusk to dawn
To dusk, soon will be dormant
With ardent hope we strain to see
The form of her successor
As this year follows faithfully
Her silent predecessor
And we, with sentimental tear
Murmur a farewell homage
She slips away, another Year
To history’s steadfast visage
Her bosom bears the moment where
We wept our bitter sorrow
Or yielded in a humble prayer
The dread of life’s tomorrow
She carries on her pallid lips
The echo of four seasons
And disappears, into the mist
As midnight tolls her leaving
With her she takes each tick of time
That formed her ethereal being
Away, into archaic climes
No eye beholds her fleeing
For we have turned with song and cheer
To greet a form untarnished
Behold, behold a virgin Year
Waits where the old has vanished


Monday, December 26, 2011

Time's Composition

On autumn’s golden aftermath
December spreads an argent path
Warm trails once green with wanderlust
Lie dead and still in winter’s dusk
And where the song of meadow lark
Once tuned the hour before dark
The wind prevails with solemn moan
A low and moody winter song

Summer’s gentle melancholy
That stirred the midnight willow tree
Has donned a keen and somber note
From winter’s cold and sullen throat
No breeze to softly sigh or taunt
The cool and shaded lover’s haunt
But from the stripped and barren dell
The plaintive tune of winter’s knell

And here we pause to contemplate
The worth of moments we create
As through its kaleidoscope we peer
At patterns layered year on year
Where swiftly fleeting hours transcend
Beyond the visages of men
And winter plays its chilling lay
Then slips to fields of yesterday

Oh, touch the bow to transient strings
And listen to the song it sings
Dance to the music of the hour
For soon the earth reclaims its flower
On autumn’s golden aftermath
The winter sheds its temporal wrath
As Time composes breath by breath
A melody from life to death


Sometimes it seems we mark seasons by the transition of the familiar, and it struck me as I was out on my run today, that I am faithfully seduced by the beauty of every season!
The stretch I run is marked by seasonal beauty and spring the wind laughs,in the summer it sighs, in the autumns it is restless and moody and in the winter it moans...

The End of the Ball

She parts her lips in a paper smile
it is to late to retrieve
so she waves and laughs for a little while
other throats to appease
and at a glance
she appears to have it all
but the keen observer
is not deceived
behind darkened lashes
lies a haunted void
of grief and need
silencing the infamous laugh
as she signs off her debt


Saturday, December 24, 2011

A Christmas Song

Hail the fruit of Mary’s womb

In joyous celebration

Hail the Victor of death’s tomb

With hope’s grand exaltation

For this is He who sent His Son

And gave to us a Christmas song

Hail, the hand that held the nails

So we may be forgiven

Hail this love that never fails

And seals our hope in Heaven

Come gather ‘round and bend your knee

Hail, hail the One who sets men free

Hail, the Seed of mystery

The God who put on flesh

To walk among humanity

And suffer unto death

Lift up your heart and lift your voice

Mankind has reason to rejoice

Hail the King on Heaven’s throne

The Babe whom angels heralded

The Son who passed through Caesar’s stone

Where roman soldiers guarded

Hail Jesus Christ, God’s precious Son

Who gave to us a Christmas song


All over the world our voices unite

To hail the King on this holy night!

It's beginning to feel and smell and look and taste a lot like Christmas!

Here is a peek of Christmas prep at the Martin's.

A Child's Ecstasy...

'I just have no idea what this could be!'
she says as she peeks under the tree
continuing to explore and shake,
and find the packages with her name
as starlight dances in her gaze
and angels light the smile on her face.


Ho, Ho, Ho;)) I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

Santa been workin’ extra hard this year
Santa gonna need some of his own Christmas cheer
Santa deserves a special delight
So give your Santa some lovin’ tonight
All year long he seems forgot
And doesn’t seem to need a lot
No one thinks of his needs because
After all, he's Santa Claus
Santa been lookin’ a little tired of late
So don’t just leave cookies on that Christmas plate
Leave him some kisses, and after his milk
Show him a little delight in silk…
…Santa’s been working so very hard
Santa is looking a little tired
Santa' is needin' some ho, ho, ho
So grab him beneath the mistle-toe


A Different Kind of Ecstasy...

prompt; write a poem on ecstasy in 5 minutes...

Ecstasy is…

Understanding your heart when I can’t touch your face…

Or when we are apart, I can still taste your kiss

Ecstasy is…

Tracing the outline of you

Into a poem where wishes come true

Ecstasy is…

Knowing that you feel what I feel

And know what I’m saying when I’ve said nothing at all

Ecstasy is…

Not only in the holding of you, but in the letting go

It is a gift to ache because of love, don't you know?

Ecstasy is…

My pulse quickening beneath your touch

And wishing you wouldn’t be gone so much


And there is a thrill bordering ecstasy to write about it in 5 mins.;)

Friday, December 23, 2011

Bethlehem's Star

Bethlehem’s star has not dimmed its glow
It beams clearly now as it did long ago
Into the darkness of earth’s desperate night
Bethlehem’s star still offers His light

Still now we gather in awe of His might
To wonder and worship and seek this true Light
Over each cradle and grave see it shine
Mercy and goodness and love so divine

‘Peace on the earth and goodwill to all men’
A message of hope as true now as then
Come one and all, oh, come as you are
Follow the Light of Bethlehem’s star

“Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Matt. 2:1

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Ode to December

The grapevine o’er the lintel
Has lost its musky fare
The plot that is my garden
Returns an icy stare
The barefoot boy of summer
Sleeps soundly in his bed
Lulled by a song of winter
Through stark trees overhead

The ship waits in the mooring
For screaming gales to pass
No breeze or warm tide luring
From shores of wind-swept grass
On furrowed field of daisy
December woos her mate
Where once the breeze was lazy
And blooms declared love’s fate

No tiny bud or blossom
To clothe the barren limb
Upon earth’s frigid bosom
The little day grows dim
Night draws its cobalt awning
Before daydreams are through
As deeper shades of evening
Transform white plains to blue

The dusty lanes of summer
The long, slow afternoon
Have fled to kinder pastures
Beneath a warmer moon
The sun-drenched haunts of August
Don winter's testing shawl
While on its gleaming canvas
A thousand memories fall

Dance to the song of snow-flakes
And hold your loved ones near
Three seasons worth of toiling
Have traced another year
Dance to the tune of memories
In winter's frigid bliss
For soon her frosty candor
Will melt in Spring's soft kiss


Thoughts on Solitary...

The whole world over
We hold one solitary thing in common
…this moment

The only things ever accomplished were done,
Not in yesterday or tomorrow
But in that solitary gift of today

Only one, only one
Do not waste it away
Only one life
To work and to play
Only one, only one
What a beautiful gift
Tell me my friend
Are you cherishing it?
Only one, only one
Quickly it is done
What will they say of us
When we are gone?

There is a torch for tomorrow
And all generation to come
A solitary Light in our sorrow
The Light that will guide us Home

Few are the things that are changeless
But God sent His precious Son
And now by the light of Jesus love
Safely He’ll guide us Home

How great is the love of the Father
That He sent His own flesh and blood
That all who call upon Him
Will be called the sons of God

Earth has many boasts to offer
But none can compare in worth
To the solitary love of the Father
Who sent His Son to this earth


Praise Him...Jesus is the solitary reason for the season!

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

To My Poet Friends...

It’s difficult sometimes to spell in words
The heart of all those thoughts we deeply feel
But I must try, for you have kindly stirred
My soul with honesty and thoughts surreal
Once I assumed a friend is one we meet
Then learn to cherish, love and trust with time
But I have known a friendship, rich and sweet
Nurtured by the magic of a rhyme

A poet’s heart is more than flesh and blood
It sees beyond perimeters of sight
It races at the mention of a word
Defining it within the dead of night
I’ve held you close to me within a pen
Yet felt you tear the longing from my chest
By words that you have woven in a poem
To strike the chord of grief and tenderness

You, my friend, have taught me how to fly
To scoff at fear wielding its scornful threat
You, my friend, have taught me how to cry
And how to dance and twirl and pirouette
Anticipation wakes with me at dawn
It trembles in each moment’s soft embrace
For who can know the poem your whispers spawn
Beneath the touch of lips in cyber-space

It’s difficult sometimes, to spell in words
Thoughts too profound for letters formed in ink
But in night’s deepest quiet I have heard
A tiny glimpse of what you feel and think
So in this Christmas season I extend
A prayer to you for happiness and cheer
Merry Christmas, my dear poet-friends
God bless you now and through the coming year


If you visit this blog faithfully you are a poet at heart
And I want to say thank-you for your love and your time,
For your words of encouragement, for your acceptance of rhyme,
Thank-you for your friendship in blog-sphere
Merry Christmas to you
And a Happy New Year!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Escapade on a Wintery Night

Be mine tonight
We’ll share our coffee
No, let’s make it tea
Fit for royalty
As the moonlight exposes
Tree tops stenciled
In its glow
And we skirt their penciled
Sketches in the snow
A thermos, though not as dainty
As a hand-painted china cup
Keeps our tea piping
Until the sun comes up
And that old cabin
Boarded up for winter
Cannot speak of two wanderers
Or crackling firelight
Or the fantasy of a bear-skin rug
As we inhale its comfort
And understand each other
Without one uttered word
Although we talked all night...


Heaven's Threshold has Red, Chipped Paint

I did not envision heaven’s threshold
With chipped and worn red paint
I always pictured it in gold
It’s vigil by a saint

I thought the stream beside its tread
Would be crystal, sublime
I see a river flow instead
A river known as Time

Across its brink dash children’s feet
With muddy-gilded trace
And mother is the one to greet
To let go, to embrace

I did not envision heaven’s stair
With red paint, chipped and worn
But I have held an angel there
With wing, bruised, tired or torn

And I have seen the face of God
Though I am not a saint
Heaven’s threshold warms earth’s sod
With chipped and worn, red paint


Heaven’s threshold needs paint…
But how do you close off the step
over which every hello and good-bye
to and from home passes…
worn paint on the launching pad to life…

Hollow Eyes

I cannot remember them individually
But collectively still they leap
From rain-drenched screens
Or sudden recollection
Dark and austere
Each rigid gaze
Pointing the dreamer with yellow braids
To the strait and narrow

Countenance is more powerful than speech
Those eyes staring, glaring
Judgment formed by visual discourse
Their peripheral blotted
By statutes of scribbled ink
And fear-riddled intonations
Dissuading wanderers and dreamers
From sure damnation

Look neither left nor right then
Fear clutches the seeker
As loveless eyes extol doom
Discounting grace for works
And blindness as an acceptable plight
If fortified by the law
While the chill of hollow stares
Numbs the soul


Do you see them?...all those faces in the picture.

This picture was posted on one of the prompt sites last week.
I saved it but was unable 'find' its voice or 'eyes' immediately,
yet I felt its tug, powerful and memsmerizing....

A Night of Thoughts

Dare we to venture out into the night?
The twilight deepened many hours ago
Yet, to be entertained by Orion’s light
Is far superior to mans earthbound show
The silence murmurs loud, a thousand thoughts
And as I slip my hand across the years
I feel it reach within my heart of hearts
In sonnets born of laughter, pain and tears
How can we keep this night from fading fast?
Sharply the present wars against the past

The mind contains a broad and boundless stage
Where images of hope and grief implore
Upon its girth our dreams and passions rage
As unedited moments deck the floor
There is no script for longing or remorse
And who can tell which fuels the sudden tear
Thought against thought, a soundless intercourse
Yet all consuming in its faith or fear
Are we together now or worlds apart?
Thought spares no sacred mercy for the heart

Dare we to venture out into the night?
Dare we to vex the laws of solitude?
Will midnight render turmoil or respite?
Is darkness day’s swan-song or dawn’s prelude?
Statistics are a stark, material chart
No Hubble telescope can pierce thoughts shell
Or clarify the measure of the heart
Its secret sorrows it can never tell
Thought cannot don a fraudulent disguise
As God alone beholds its truths; its lies

Against the heartbeat of night's tranquil breast
We lay aside our masks of bravery
While some claim its nocturnal brow to rest
Some revel in its vulnerability
Beyond the skyline or beneath the soil
Thought cannot be restrained by rule or rod
A builder or a scavenger of spoil
It escapes all visage but that of God
And yet in every act that we engage
Thought opens up the curtain to its stage


Monday, December 19, 2011

A Wish Come True...but ever Renewed

I should wish to keep contentment…

…to know it is enough

to have what I am holding

and not what I have sought

I should like to know contentment

is worth more than temporal gold

and clasping you in sentiment

is love’s wondrous way to hold

you close when you are far way

and I should wish to be

contented, here, right now, today

and let tomorrow be

for it will come when it will come

its cares with it will wait

Within the arms of home sweet home

Contentment’s law is sweet

I don’t want to be distracted

By the things I do not have

Or dare to take for-granted, life

With one foot in the grave

And I will be content to simply

Have and hold this moment

To pine for what I do not have

Is foolishness and torment

Merry Christmas, darling

Oh, I know that I’ve been blessed

And may its sweet contentment be

The thing I cherish best


On Finding Contentment

Contentment is not found within
The resurrection of the past
If I could be a girl again
A year would soon be memory-cast

The citizen of earth is born
With naught but dreams on which to fly
Time states its wealth by what we learn
He wins the game who dares to try

Trouble and luck have lucent wings
Both happen to the faint or brave
To hope in resurrected things
Is but to lag in history’s grave

Contentment is not something sought
Nor found in memory’s purple mist
Contentment lives within our thought
In moments only that exist


…but if they could resurrect that old willow-tree, I would be content to climb it:)

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Life's Deepest Pleasure

We crave the meeting of fingertips, lips

Flesh against flesh intertwined

But there is bliss much keener than this

In the meeting of mind against mind

Touch pleasing touch is a tender-sweet blush

Yet cannot compare, I find

To the wildly intense and pulse-quickening rush

Of mind exposed against mind

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The True Light

We behold Him even now

Though we cannot comprehend

The fullness that His love bestowed

As He put on flesh for men

He put on thus, meek flesh for men

This One that Is, before Time was

Conceived, not of the will of them

But by the holy will of God

And by the holy will of God

He brought true light upon the earth

This true Light remains till now

As testament and Living Word

As testament and Living Word

Full of mercy, hope and grace

Moses law had never heard

A proclamation such as this

A proclamation such as this

Power to become His sons

Cleansed from all unrighteousness

Washed in the blood of heaven’s One

Washed in the blood of heaven’s One

His Light remains to lead the way

Word became flesh, God’s only Son

And we still have His Word today

We still have His word today

Darkness still cannot comprehend

But oh, to those who have believed

He dwells within the heart of them


I was reading John 1 this morning.

One of my favorite passages, not only at Christmas

But forever.

He is the True Light.

I’ve been pondering this True Light since I read Vivinfrance’s poem the other night.

Then Mary wrote about the mother Mary and as I thought of Mary's humility and acceptance of God’s word it convicted me. We have His word still, full of grace and truth and Light. He is the True Light.

Friday, December 16, 2011

(this video sparked the following poem)

The architecture

In the nest of a dove

Is lovely to the spectator

That is in love…

We were lost in blue that day

Blue sky and blue sea

But all I really remember

Were your blue eyes watching me

There was sound all around

But we didn’t hear

As the gondoliers hailed each other

I felt your lips on my ear

And the wind swooping through the canal

Rousing rivulets of desire

As the sun fell, a molten ball

Melting across the water

While we glanced sympathetically

At stragglers on the pier

Lost in books and newspapers

Or envious stares...

The architecture

In the nest of a dove

Is breath-taking

To the spectator in love

We didn’t need Venice

To make us smile

But I think Venice needed us

Just for a little while…


And Here We Dance...

She tilts her head
In delightful laughter
While words like Sicily and Rome
Roll off her lips
As if they were
Her summer homes
And so they have been
Held between fingertips
As she turns the pages
In a scene
Of people and marketplaces
Where she has stood on shaded terraces
To watch the sun set
Over rolling vineyards

He comes to her now
Against the cool blue
Mediterranean backdrop
But poetry is not enough
To bridge the ocean
Or the deserts
Between hunger and love
Though her throat is parched
With burning of necessity
She is sandwiched
Between tumbled Canadian sky
And golden bars of sunlight
Sprawled across umber fallow
In the encroaching eventide

They dance; Sinatra knows every word
To her thoughts
And eyes will always speak more openly
Than the ineptness of speech
As she feels his heartbeat
Against her chest
In mutual anguish
And tenderness
For imminent departure
Is surely love’s
Most passionate threshold
Nobody visits this lighthouse
It is too late and too cold
They have all night to dance
And say good-bye.
She closes the book...
The clock in the tower strikes nine


Unwrapping Moments

She watches
Caught between the present
And the past
As her son’s awkward
Attempts at gift-wrapping
Bring laughter from us
And mumbling from him…
As he wraps
She unwraps
Stored sacredly
Where she can ponder them
In her heart
Moments being fashioned
Into memories
Even now
By hands
Caught somewhere between
A boy
And a man…


It’s a tender-sweet stage…13.
The other night I asked him what was so funny
And his instant reply was unexpected…
“mom, guy humor”
And he never did tell me!

The verse below has been one of my favorites, for as long as I can remember..
Our hearts, the place we store our most cherished thoughts.

But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Off the Cuff #3

Focus, she commanded
And tapped my head sharply with her pointer stick
I stared at the numbers blankly
And composed an answer, double-quick
How could I make her understand
My senses were merely blurred
By the alluring, blissful enchantment
Of this beautiful thing called a word?


Off the Cuff #2

Oh, yes they are free
They don’t cost you a dime
All they take from you
Is a small thing known as Time

Oh, yes they are free
This torturous chain
Of consonants and vowels
Life’s most pleasing pain

So if they should taunt
Grab them by their guile
And turn them into
Your personal style


Good Morning...

I feel you pressing into me
With warm translucent sigh
As fingertips, more sensed than seen
Brush slumber from the sky

You do not tap my window pane
Yet I know you are there
Whispering to me in the rain
And softening the air

You rouse me from unconsciousness
And yet you never speak
But kindly tug night’s blanket back
To smile against my cheek

I’ve never seen you quite like this
So I have one request
Before you slip into the mist
Help me to do my best


It is an unseasonably warm and rainy morning.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Slow Dancing to Life's Music

Barefoot and blue jeans
Does it get any better
Favorite music
My old, worn sweater
Little girl slipping
Her hand into mine
I turn to kiss her
But she’s grown up and gone
And the flip-side of loving
Is sweet memories
So I dance to life’s music
In faded blue jeans
As I recall what I love
And what I miss
Oh does it get any better than this?

Five o’clock shadow
Caressing my cheek
Darling, there are no words
Left to speak
Full moon reminding me
Of all that is not
And how much is missing
In all that I’ve got
And waiting is longer
Than than it used to be
But struggle makes us stronger
If love is the key
As hope fills the hollow
Of things that I miss
Oh, does it get any better than this?

Bare feet and blue jeans
Deep blue full moon night
Desire and duty
And dreaming take flight
My head on your shoulder
Your hand finding mine
Let’s slow dance, darling
I know we’ll be fine
For all that we have
Out-weighs what is not
Oh, what a beautiful
Love we have got
As you hold me closer
Dancing is bliss
Oh, does it get any better than this?


To miss is to love...

Beneath the Same, White Moon

Beneath the dark umbrella of night
Silence is amplified
As sound becomes the keener sight
And thought a swift-winged ride

Beneath its wide seamless canopy
As present and past entwine
Thoughts of you keep me company
And oh, your company is fine

Beneath the backdrop of the dawn
Life's imminent history
I wonder where the years have gone
And what is yet to be

Beneath the pining of the dark
As whispers ache and bleed
My thought ignites a sudden spark
And longing becomes need

Beneath the same, still, silent sky
Beneath the same white moon
I wonder where you are tonight
And will you be home soon…


I took the kids out for a final shopping trip last night..
It was special, fun.
The night was glorious and still after excitement was lulled to dreamland
and mother stood on the porch drinking in the night sky(and coffee)...
(there is a reason my blogs contain the word 'porch')
on its step I ponder, reflect, and for me thought bleeds in one medium...poetry;))
thus a short-lived resolve not to write for a while. If the break happens, it happens and if not then it was not meant to be

Christmas Poems

If the joy of Christmas
Were as brief as its date
I think it would be
A season to hate…

I love the delights
That Christmas imparts
But only because
Of His love in my heart

The celebration of hope in one Birth
Perfect gift of love sent to earth
A message time cannot restrain
To God
Be the glory forever, Amen

(first I had the word 'Christmas' instead of 'Jesus''
but Christmas is JESUS)

Cradle, cross and resurrection
This is my Christmas reflection…


Reason to Celebrate...

It’s not in the lights
The shortbread, fruitcake
It’s not in the special
Christmas cards that we make
Though each are their own gift
They would lose their delight
If God had not so loved us
On that first Christmas night

It’s not in the presents
Underneath the tree
Not in decorations
So lovely to see
The wonderful carols
Would not fill us with mirth
If God had not given
His Son to this earth

…and here IS the reason
We celebrate thus
God in His mercy
Gave His Son to us
So that all who believe
Will not perish in sin
But they will receive
Eternal life through Him


For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

to those who are saying ...huh?:) I'm postponing my 'break'...a little;))

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Merry Christmas!

I am taking a Christmas cyber-break!
But before I do I would like to take
A moment to wish you goodness and cheer
As we celebrate Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Janet Martin

God Bless you all
and may He be our reason
to celebrate this season!

I was planning on doing a live greeting but I can't figure out how to get it to work on here so this will have to do;)
Thank-you all, who visit, read and encourage.