Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Bidding May Adieu

On another day it will not be May
As all the apple-blossoms fling
Their gowns and tulips fade away
To deck the grass of yesterday
And spring

On another day it will not be May
And the clouds which snuff the moon
Keeping it dark tonight
Will be lazy and summer white
In June

On another day it will not be May
As we embrace this new-comer
And kiss her pretty face because
Midst fair-flowered applause
Comes summer


I love June!


On this earth we are not created for defeat
Though we may feel its breath upon our back
Or long to fall into the step of cowardly retreat
Because of faith or confidence we lack
God will keep our feet upon His track

On this earth the sting of disappoint must be borne
Our goals and victories oft re-aligned
We will be the victim of the scoffer’s cruel scorn
But we are held by Arms faithful and kind
And He will give us perfect peace of mind

On this earth its love and loss will cause our hearts to bleed
And we will never fully understand
The way of He who promises to fill our truest need
But all we need to do is hold His hand
And He will lead us to His Promised Land


Monday, May 30, 2011

Perfect Poetry

There is a certain time of night
Somewhere twixt twelve and two
When the pastureland is white
Gleaming with moonlit dew
When starlight fans a velvet sky
And silence cloaks the earth
As even lissome zephyrs die
Quelling their noontide mirth
When the pond is smooth as glass
Without the faintest brush
Or ripple of a breeze to pass
And mar its flawless hush
There is a certain time of night
Somewhere twixt twelve and three
Where heaven waits to softly write
Its perfect poetry


In Moments

There is nothing we can do
To bring the past back into view
But its eternity is cast
In moments before they are past

There is no moment deigned for waste
Each one slipping by in haste
One fleeting breath and it is gone
Building history; stone on stone

There is nothing we can do
To bring the past back into view
But with the moment in our hand
We may do the best we can

For in the future we may see
Reflections of our history
Because of what we did today
With moments as they slipped away


True Measure

There is so much that we could say
With carefully structured word
But words alone are cold and gray
It is action that is heard

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold
A wise and valuable treasure
But it is our action when all is told
That speaks of the heart’s truest measure


The Best

What lies on the tip of your tongue
Beyond the words 'there is'
Seems we could add almost anything
To a phrase as taunting as this...

But the most powerful words added to this phrase
Were breathed in Holiness
'I am the Lord; there is no other God'
Is there any words better than this?

Janet Martin

"I am the LORD, and there is no other;
Besides Me there is no God.
I will gird you, though you have not known Me; Isa. 45:5


There is something about you
That entices me
Perhaps a certain shade of blue
Or just your memory

There is something about you
That is bittersweet and bold
Yet there is nothing I can do
To turn the blue to gold

There is something ‘bout the past
That claims a part of me
And in its deepening shadow cast
I touch your memory



There is a sweet and strange allure
Held on an empty page
A surface, unbridled and pure
An endless, open stage

Upon its shoulder bleeds the heart
In blood-drops made of ink
Preserved; a timeless work of art
To make us feel and think

There is nothing in this world
That moves me quite as much
As possibilities unfurled
When pen and paper touch


Shimmering Art

There is a soft and sultry sheen
Upon the field of grass
Where every blade of emerald green
Is kissed with liquid glass
As midnight’s raindrops glisten
In the shimmering light of dawn
A misty, moody painting
In the sweep of silver lawn

There’s a soft and sultry aching
In the meadow of my heart
Where time’s giving and taking
Paints a silent work of art
As smiles and sorrow mingle
In the whisper of a sigh
Shimmering in the twinkle
Of a tear within my eye

Janet Martin

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Another Rainy Morning

There is a muted sorrow
In the darkly-tinted awning
Weeping on each field and furrow
On another rainy morning
Its gray approach is heavy
Like a heart of silent needing
As it presses on the levy
With its flow of silver bleeding

It draws a sigh from longing lips
And tunes a vague oppression
As consciousness of knowing grips
The heart into submission
For man with all its power and might
Cannot one raindrop tether
Or meet within the dead of night
To change the course of weather

Its slanted weeping tames the dust
Into a thousand rivers
While all mankind can do is trust
In heaven’s tender Giver
We clasp within our bosom
The ache of love and longing
As we listen to the music
Of another rainy morning


...yes, another rainy morning!


I’ve got two eyes
I’m glad I do
I’ve got two arms
With which to hold you
I’ve got two hands
To fold in prayer
But I’ve just got one heart
Handle it with care

I’ve got two ears
To hear what you say
Two legs and feet…
We’re just made that way
But somewhere within
Is our most tender part
We’ve all been given
Just one heart

A heart divided
Cannot make two
A heart once broken
Can never be new
If I give to you
My most vulnerable part
Will you be gentle?
For I just have one heart

Two lips to whisper
Or kiss you, my dear
Two arms for hugging
And holding you near
But somehow you’ve stolen
My most tender part
So remember, my darling
I just have one heart

Janet Martin

Friday, May 27, 2011

In Words....

Oh darling, why do you do what you do?
I’m not the same person when I’m not with you
You hear what I tell you but words cannot say
As I hear you whisper in the very same way

There’s nothing better than looking at you
To hear what you’re saying in eyes of true-blue
I’m not quite sure why but somehow I know
What you say with your eyes and I love you so

I’ve tried to write you a letter or two
But honestly, I’d rather just look at you
And let you read everything I cannot say
And I’ll listen to you in the very same way

Poetry is powerful and words have their days
But I’ll take the resonance of your true-blue gaze
Darling, I’d tell you in words if I could
And if you were here with me, well maybe I would…


With One Ear Tuned...

We cannot sleep as those who have not held or once caressed
A wee babe and rocked them, cradled closely to our breast
Beneath the glow of evening star or wisp of lambent moon
Beyond the sighing of the pines or night-birds as they croon
Above the song of breezes as they stir the woodland deep
We listen for our children until they are asleep

We cannot sleep as those who’ve never soothed with hugs or prayer
The child who weeps because he woke from a fearsome nightmare
Once we were young and tiptoed in; for fear the chiming clock
Should rouse the parent who was tuned to hear the faintest walk
And as the nighttime wraps the earth in shadows dark and deep
I slumber lightly now until my children are asleep


Miracles Happen

Just when you’re thinking that miracles don’t happen
They do
Right in the middle of life plain and mundane
There’s You
And all we need is to open our eyes
And it doesn’t take long to realize
The world is brimming and bountiful
And overflowing with miracles

The bud that was tightly sealed yesterday
Softly unfolds
A miracle revealed in breath-taking display
For mankind to behold
A small child’s warm arms wrap around us so tight
The breeze parts the clouds to release brilliant sunlight
We see heaven’s glory mirrored in a smooth puddle
And know it can only be a miracle

In the face of tragedy mankind must respond
And they do
As countless miracles abound
Seen only by You
Love reminds us that it will not fail
The past is behind us and cannot prevail
You are still compassionate and merciful
Showering us tenderly with miracles


Not a Movie

I won’t cry
What good would it do?
Life is not a movie
I know it’s true
But I like happy endings
When the story is through
And all I can say for now is….
‘Take two’

I won’t cry
It’s not over yet
We’re somewhere in the middle
Of joy and regret
And nobody knows
Where the next scene will be
As I hear the Director saying
‘Take three’

I won’t cry
For what good are tears?
They cannot change one picture
Or bring back the years
We hoped would last forever
Now it cuts me to the core
As I hear a Voice saying,
‘Take four’

I won’t cry
We are not at The End
This is not good-by
Time is not foe or friend
I could use a scene
With a quiet country drive
And you next to me…
‘Take five’

Janet Martin


Little pieces of you touch me
Soft whispers laughing in my ear
Geography tells me you’re gone
But you’re still near

I touch you in a thousand moments
It’s the way of love, I guess
A soothing, aching torment
Or a somnolent caress

Little pieces of you touch me
For no matter what I do
You are here in tender fragments
Those little pieces of you….

Janet Martin

When our friends moved they blessed us with boxes full of
Pieces of their life…
I was cleaning the stove and realized how often I think of them/ pray
Because of the little pieces they’ve left for us to touch.
Who knew a bottle of house-hold cleaner would be a prayer-reminder!
Collin, when you said ‘just take it’ you didn’t realize how often these gifts would remind me to pray! Jane, the food, the make-up, the bath products etc… your popcorn bowl!!
are little pieces of you!
Hope all is well.

The Wind

Like the sound of wind
Pushing through the woods
Memories rush my mind
Their fingers probe
The deepest crater
In my heart
Drawing us together
Pulling us apart

Like the stirring of a breeze
In the hour before dawn
It feathers the trees
And ripples the lawn
Gentle fingers
Brushing my sigh
As the thought of you lingers
In a tear in my eye

Like the force of a hurricane
Or the roar of the sea
Like warm gentle rain
Crooning a soft melody
Like the rising and falling
Of the night-wind in the trees
Is the bittersweet calling
Of memories

Janet Martin

Thursday, May 26, 2011


If all that were left was regret and longing
I could let go, I guess
For there is nothing warm or comforting
In misery’s caress

I am so glad we are creatures of choosing
Not shackled by law or demand
So I choose to love… there is no refusing
For my heart does not heed to command

Life is a patchwork of seasons and sorrow
Time flows of its own free will
Darling, no one is promised tomorrow
But today I will love you until…

…until all the stars fall out of the heavens
And all of the oceans run dry
Darling, today is all we are given
And its made for you and I


Wednesday, May 25, 2011


I pause; it filters through me
A sighing, low refrain
I let it warm and soothe me
The music of the rain
Filling the room around me
Like the breath of pending light
Without the weary cluttering
Of things to mar its flight

A calm and sweeping rhythm
This soulful melody
Quiets within its stirring
The ache inside of me
As longing turns soft pages
With a wise and tender glove
Crossing its final stages
Until all that’s left is…love

Janet Martin


Only spring erases winter
Only love erases hate
Only time erases sorrow
Only night erases day
And only Jesus, only Jesus
Can wash the guilt of sin away

Janet Martin

The Truth About Lies

A tear may dim my down-cast eye
A sigh may whisper from my lips
A memory may flicker by
An echo from the shadow slips
Suddenly, but not for thee

I made a promise yesterday
And ne’er a flippant oath I take
But carefully each word I say
Lest I should wish my vow to break
Regretfully, but not for thee

And now I lay me down to sleep
Where I shall dream so peacefully
While all the solemn willows weep
And all their tears fall silently
With mine; but not for thee


Tuesday, May 24, 2011

In Shades of Melancholy

As dusk-reddened spires fall into the sky-line
As silhouettes darken and vanish away
As deeper blue claims the purple horizon
Drawing a curtain o’er the remnant of day
I feel you in whispers of gray

The quiet bears the rush of a starless pavilion
It seems I can touch the rain-thickened breeze
And you; lingering just beyond my vision
Beneath the arc of gold willow trees
And a graveyard of memories

The night lays upon the air, heavy and moody
The air lays around me; motionless, blue
Wrapping me in its somnolent beauty
Holding me closer on its shoulder of dew
As a clock in the distance strikes two


Without Word or Movement

A profusion of promise scatters the air
In lilac and blossom; cherry, apple and pear
The cantankerous gale taunts; its harshness subdued
As hill and vale flaunts a garment renewed

Without word or movement the earth is transformed
As fields cold and dormant are softened and warmed
Minute verdant nudges quiver; expand
Erupting in branches and sweeping the land

Without word or movement time re-arranges
Moment over moment, everything changes
Indiscernible aching brushes the earth
Giving and taking in the very same breath



Today lies before us in a vague and misty shroud
And there is not a mortal who can own
The mystery that is hidden in its shimmering, silver cloud
Looming before us as the great Unknown

We cannot know what may befall before the evening sun
We cannot see into the pending hour
But we can know who orchestrates each moment one by one
And we can trust His infallible power

The Unknown quivers in each heart-beat; in the quiet of the dawn
It trembles in each ripple on life’s sea
But there is One who knows it all who we can lean upon
Within his arms He holds infinity

Janet Martin


Clenched fists cannot hold desire
Longing slips through fingers like sand
Tears fall in torrents but do not leave a river
Passion is a force elusive as the wind

Laughter and crying are flickering shadows
Painting blue hills of heaven and hurt
Loving and longing are mountains and meadows
Rising and falling like handfuls of dirt

Time is intangible yet fills every moment
Thought is unseen yet forms every deed
Love is a tender and turbulent torment
Life is an ocean of necessity and need

Clenched fists cannot hold our craving
Cupped palms cannot cradle a dream
Life is a vapor with eternal bearing
As moments like raindrops fall into its stream


Monday, May 23, 2011

Song of the Willow Tree

The wind in a perpetual sigh
Tosses the willow trees
Rain falls from the sodden skies
Like aching memories
Tonight we share the sadness
Melding our unuttered needs
Whilst propriety of saneness
Drifts like dandelion seeds

There are no cold blue shadows
The whole earth, a darkened tomb
As yellow, painted meadows
Bow in mute, colorless gloom
And none can know the weighted tear
That threads the midnight hush
Hovering, a shapeless sphere
Upon a tender brush

Your name is dark with longing
In the iridescent glow
Of the raindrops softly strumming
An amorous tango
While night and rain and wanting
In discordant harmony
Play a song, lonesome and haunting
In the wind-tossed willow-tree



What a dark day it would it be
What a drab and doleful view
If what’s right in front of me
Were all that I could hold on to

I have found the lure of living
Not in foolish fantasy
But in meadows softly brimming
With great possibility

The little moments filled with yearning
In my sudden reverie
Cannot quench the deeper burning
Of life’s possibility

Is there a lasting satisfaction
In life’s taunting destinies
Or is happiness the attraction
Of life’s possibilities?

Life is like a field of flowers
Stretching to the cloudy sea
We pass through fair, budding hours
Filled with possibility

Countless as the blooms that nod
Moments drift to history
Each one is a gift from God
Filled with possibility

I have found the lure of living
Not in all the things I see
But within the quiet grinning
Of life’s possibility


Friday, May 20, 2011


I really did not want these moments yet...
They come between us
Seeming to pull you farther away
And it hurts me because
I really want you to stay
Just a little longer
If I could I would put moments on hold
Until I am stronger
And I would release them slowly
One breath and then another
Asking them to pause
As I gather you closer
Holding you because
I am your mother


About Love

Without respect it is impossible to love
One without the other will never be enough

Love will grow if properly nourished
Left alone it cannot flourish

It is better to keep love alive
Than try to revive it after it has died

Love loves beyond all reason or measure
It is a sacrificial and selfless treasure

Love is not hindered by barriers or oceans
It does not depend on feelings or emotions

It is impossible to keep love hidden
Stronger than steel and soft as a kitten

Love is for both the wise and the fool
Love does not condemn or ridicule

Love is unchanged whether in darkness or light
Love remains the same for it has nothing to hide

Love is neither obsession nor possession…
Love is hope, love is compassion

Love is taught not by word but action
It is more than a quick and passing attraction

Love cannot be bought with gold or silver
Love costs time; time invested in each other

…and now abides these three, faith, hope, love
And the greatest of these is love


Wedding Poem

How can we know how long is the road
Or its twisting and its winding
We stand here today and vow for aye
A promise pure and binding
Upon this earth, for better or worse
Let nothing tear asunder
May God’s will be done as two become one
A thing of heavenly wonder

In sickness and health, in poverty or wealth
In fair or stormy weather
In high tide or low, through-out life’s ebb and flow
May we be stronger together
As we share smiles and tears and as miles become years
May our love and respect never wane
But each to the other be faithful forever
And unto each other remain

May God above with His perfect love
Be our eternal Guide
May He enfold us, keep and hold us
Ever side by side
Husband and wife for the rest of this life
Oh, may it simply be
A foretaste of the love that waits up above
In Heaven’s eternity

Janet Martin~

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Unwritten Poetry

For all the words that I have penned
And thoughts arranged in poetry
You are such the dearer friend
Ever listening patiently…

…For sentiments I cannot quote
You touch a finger to my throat
And though I really cannot tell
You seem to hear them full and well
And I am not compelled to speak
The words you steal against my cheek
Nor is there any need that I
Spell out the longing in my eye
You hear the things I cannot say
And softly brush their want away
You, the dearer friend to me
Read my unwritten poetry


Painful Touch

I reach out and catch your hand
As your fingers brush across my mind
By the question in your eyes you don’t understand
Well, my dear, it’s just that I find
Your touch is more than I can bear
When I am here and you are there

There is a sudden hush that follows
The wild wind as it drops suddenly
Darling, it’s the same hollow silence
I feel as you walk from me
And your touch now I cannot bear
For I am here and you are there


Bloom and Smile

Does the daisy apologize to the rose
Because she is white and not red?
Does the holly-hock wish it were very small
And delicate lobelia instead?
I’ve never heard the butter-cup sigh
Because it’s been sown in the wild
Is it not the same then for you and I?
We should bloom where we’re planted and smile


Perfect Gardens

A thing to be admired; the manicured garden
With rows and groupings aligned
Pinched and pruned and patterned and pampered
And perfectly designed
Where eye has been trained to root out any flaw
Marring its symmetry
A true work of art; a gardener’s hurrah
But devoid of poetry

I’ve seen the garden where feet have not trampled
And never a shears applied
Where blue strife and violet and ivy grow rampant
In ditches and forgotten hill-side
Where un-named brooks sparkle through verdant beauty
Where spring, summer, autumn pass
The garden blooms unhindered yet perfect
And free as the wind-blown grass

Far be it from me to discourage the gardener
Armed with the tools of our trade
I would not dream of stealing the pleasure
Of gardens created and made
So much potential and possibility
Lies in a portion of sod
But they will never hold the poetry
Of those gardens tended only by God


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Beyond Price

A dozen roses may boast of love
And accolades so grand
But the most beautiful blooms that I’ve been given
Are brought in a small child’s hand

The florist’s window and the manicured bed
Are carefully arranged and planned
But I’ll take the tangled flower bouquet
Brought in a small child’s hand

The orchid and lily are regal delights
Tall and proudly they stand
Dandelions are a breath-taking sight
When brought in a small child’s hand

A tangle of daffodils, violets and daisies
Forget-me-not in uneven strands
I’ve had the honor to receive these bouquets
And the love from a small child’s hands


Victoria just surprised me with my first spring bouquet.
I was washing the supper dishes and suddenly I sniffed,
“H-m-m,’ I thought, ‘maybe my house doesn’t smell so badly after all’
And at that same instant Victoria ‘swooshed’ a flower bouquet up to my face!

‘These are the moments we holds in our hands and touch as they slip through our fingers like sand’…

I'd Rather Be Gardening

There are beds to make
And bills to pay
There is laundry to fold
And put away
There are floors to scrub
A house to clean
But oh I would rather
Be gardening

There is shopping to do
With a list a mile long
Will there come a day
When the shopping is done?
There are light-bulbs to change
And a room that needs painting
But oh, I would rather
Be gardening

There are windows to polish
And cookies to bake
Oh, that reminds me
…and a birthday cake
There is dusting and shining
The list keeps growing…
But oh I would rather be
Digging and hoeing
And planting and weeding
And mulching and pruning
And planning and dreaming
In my garden
Yes, I’d rather
Be gardening


My to-do list grows a little less appealing
As the rain continues…
…oh, by the way, I chose shopping!
My least favorite thing on the list!
And you may decide whether you believe this

Bits of Poetry

I could try to love you
In a song strummed sweet and low
Oh, you know music moves me
And it stirs you too, I know
I would choose a song, perhaps
Depending who it would be
But I can only love you, dear
In bits of poetry

Nothing touches quite as close
Or stirs a longing sigh
A poem is a crimson rose
A painted twilight sky
A poem as an endless ache
Of perfect agony
Oh darling, let me touch you then
In bits of poetry

If I should try to love you, dear
In any other way
I could never really speak
The words I want to say
For poems slide over barriers
Though they stretch from sea to sea
Nothing tears the sky away
Likes bits of poetry

Let me hold you, darling
In the whisper of a poem
The breeze, the night, the morning
Will be softer in these arms
And as a shaft of moonlight
Falls across the silent lea
I can feel your heart-beat
In bits of poetry



It begins to rain
A thrumming upon the window-pane
Ten thousand rivulets from cloud-tumbled gloom
Heavy, yet weightless on leaf and bloom
As it begins to rain

It begins to rain
Transforming the earth in a vibrant green
Naked limbs reach toward heaven’s grace
Responded to in veils of trembling lace
As it begins to rain

It begins to rain
A solemn and sweet refrain
Of a rushing and wild anomaly
Rising up inside of me
As it begins to rain

It begins to rain
Pouring on pastures of pleasure and pain
A slumberous drizzle, a sudden gush
Let’s draw the blinds, darling, what’s the rush?
It begins to rain…


Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Missing of You

To hold back the missing of you
I would do…

…if I could disarray
The stars of the sky
Or speak away
The tear in my eye
Or reach out my hand
And thus hold back years
If I could tally the sand
Or life’s raindrops and tears
If I could see past
The end of forever
Then I could hold fast
Time’s relentless river
And I could erase
The low thundercloud
Or carefully re-trace
Steps, flippant and proud
I could paint away sorrow
And turn gray skies to blue
I could hold back tomorrow
And the eve’s ruddy hue
I could return
To the past’s innocence
Never needing to yearn
For its lost recompense
I could hold on
To this moment I’m in
Space would not spawn
This aching within
If I could hold back
The wind and the dew
Oh, then I could hold back
The missing of you


Bubble?...or Trouble?

There’s a truckload of trouble
And worry to borrow
It is held in a bubble
Known as tomorrow

Should I choose to reject
The gifts I can see
And treat with neglect

Because I have chosen
To borrow the care
Of a day still uncertain
And translucent as air?

There’s a truckload of trouble
We should never borrow
It drifts in a bubble
Known as tomorrow


The Sound of Silence

The silence speaks profoundly
Of those things I cannot see
Its echo falls around me
In discordant harmony

A kaleidoscope of smiles and tears
Of greetings and good-byes
A wave of long-forgotten years
Returns in sudden sighs

The silence teams with memories
Of sorrow and delight
Its cadence weeps upon the breeze
And fills an empty night

The silence falls around me
Like moonlight on the stones
Your name softly surrounds me
In its muffled undertones



The glint of blue in your half-closed eye
Teasing with possibility
The hint of you indulging my sigh
Stirs the poet in me

The persona you share from nine to five
Is sharpened for others to see
I prefer the free and easy side
To stir the poet in me

I prefer you in the shadow of dusk
As daylight falls into the sea
And the night air is heavy with mystery and musk
To stir the poet in me

The public receives your wit and your charm
You move me unwittingly
By the light in eye and the warmth of your arm
Stirring the poet in me

Save your strength for requirements
I love your vulnerability
And all your unformed sentiments
Stirring the poet in me


Another Kind of Gardening

God reveals truth in a garden
The seeds we plant will grow
So it is with life, my darling
We simply reap what we sow


Of Planting-time and Gardens

It is a different world out here
Where dreaming over-rides despair
Illuminated miracles
Spoken in green oracles
Of planting-time and gardens

Is there a spot in May Unpainted?
Ah, surely there is naught yet tainted
By the withering, scorching sun
No weed to blight earth’s stirring throne
Of planting-time and gardens

I cannot cling to brimming youth
Or brush away infallible truth
But year after year and world over world
God’s compassion is unfurled
In planting-time and gardens


Sunday, May 15, 2011


The night enlarges
Commencing, fold over fold
Over magenta and oranges
Burnished pinks and gold
Drawing me into arms
Of darkened after-light
No hint of its crimson storm
Touching the silent night

The night expands; empty
As the laughter of lost love
And faded intimacy
Haunting the blue above
It falls like careless rain
Unaware of its power
A flood of perpetual pain
Shattering the quiet hour

The night envelopes the places
We touched with childish feet
Though time steals away the faces
Memory is savage and sweet
The night is large; surrounding me
Yet offering no consolation
But to put its dark arms around me
In a dispassionate obligation



We live in a cradle of blood-shed and tears
Where our forefathers bravely fought
To protect and preserve the things they held dear
With more than a passing thought

They did not seek out the comfort or ease
The joy of a pleasant ride
But they held on to what they believed
With faith and God and pride

And here in the dust of a stranger’s land
They carved a niche of their own
With blood and tears and the work of their hand
They built little plots of home

We live in a cradle of horror and hope
As history seems to repeat
How far would we go in the name of love
To protect and honor and keep

…the faith for which our forefathers died
And left the things they loved
Giving, with the future’s children in mind
The very best they could


Friday, May 13, 2011


The wind slips over the garden
A dry leaf slips over the mead
Daydreams slip into the twilight
A star appears far overhead
And you slip into my memory
As a little-bitty tear is shed

Moments slip into the moonlight
A soft mist slips over the hill
I’m drenched in sudden realization
Time slips by of its own free will
A teardrop slips from my musing
Into the night, reverent and still

Comfort slips over my shoulder
As longing slips out in a sigh
Suddenly I feel much older
As I sense the time slipping by
I slip my hand over your memory
Night slips into the sky


I cannot believe it is two weeks
since my friends moved to Nova Scotia.
I miss them


In spite of the fact that I’ve soiled and scarred
The day You have previously given
Still You give to me so pure and unmarred
A brand new day from Heaven

In spite of the fact that I’ve used and abused
The gift of opportunity
In patience you choose not to refuse
A brand new day for me

In spite of the fact that I repeat my mistakes
In spite of my good intentions
You reply with a brand new day
Of my folly You never make mention

In spite of the fact that I do not deserve
The blessing that continues to pour
You do not hold Your love in reserve
But simply love me more



The meadow may claim the meandering brook
As it chatters on to the sea
It holds the fern-brimmed bank, the bird
The wild crab-apple tree
And over its lap the breezes croon
A lonesome melody

The sky may boast of thunder-cloud
Or clouds like wooly sheep
The glorious shades of heaven spills
Across celestial deeps
Its moon and stars may serenade
The earth while children sleep

The tree may claim its leafy crown
The sea a vault of blue
The flower boasts its rare perfume
And every brilliant hue
But I will never envy them
For I’ve got you


Dependable You

Ah, what will stir my muse today?
I scan the low-flung cloud
Covering the earth with gray
An uninspiring shroud

I pause beside forget-me-not
They do not notice me
Could it be that they forgot
That they’ve forgotten me?

The tulip and the daffodil
Seem empty without sun
I wander up the emerald hill
To sit upon its throne

Out across the restless land
The breezes swirl and dance
I try to catch them in my hand
They move without a glance

Then, with my heart and soul wind-blown
Something stirs in me
Darling, you never let me down
My thoughts run wild and free


Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Futile Logic

The heart is an entity all on its own
It will not acknowledge or heed
The logic I teach it; it is scattered and blown
For my heart listens only to need

The heart is an entity unto itself
It will not adhere to command
I take common logic; place it high on a shelf
For you hold my heart in your hand


Tattered Poetry

How is it that you come to me
In tattered bits of poetry
The agony of your embrace
Reveals a tear-drop on my face
And yet I draw you closer still
And write of you against my will

How is it that you hurt me so
And yet inspire me to go
And take this new day willingly
To live in tattered poetry
Against my will I crave the bliss
The shadow of your bleeding kiss

How is it that in soft blue-gray
You are not too far away
And I feel you next to me
In ragged breaths of poetry
How is it that you hum to me
Those tattered strands of poetry



This is the time of day
As night begins to slip away
And chartreuse fingers brush the sky
Snuffing the twinkling lullaby
And slumbering violets lift their heads
To see the dawn of pinks and reds
Mirrored in a dewy kiss
While blossoms snow upon the grass
And songbird carols fill the air
As night drifts upward like a prayer
And weariness has been subdued
In hands and feet with zeal renewed
Yet memories linger achingly
On fingers of the willow tree
Where once we sat a little while
And languished in the others smile
But that like all else slips away
To grace the fields of yesterday
And I must cling to sound belief
There is an end to temporal grief
And failure is not a destiny
Nor is love a fantasy
But it seem this is the time of day
As charcoal softens to pale gray
Snuffing out the starry host
Oh, this is when I miss you most


I Must Go

I must go
The hills have shed their robe of snow
Beneath the sun’s resplendent glow
And all the children are asleep
The willows whisper as they weep
And tell me it is late, you know
So I must go
Oh, I must go

I must go
Too soon the little night is gone
Too soon the ticking clock strikes one
As minutes like the white-washed sand
Trickle through night’s quiet hand
Your blue eyes beg me to stay on
But I must go
Oh, I must go

I must go
Across dark fields the breezes blow
I see you in its half-moon glow
And though time trickles like the sand
I cannot quite release your hand
It comforts me a bit, you know
But I must go
Oh, I must go

I must go
The valley may seem harsh and cold
Beyond it lies a street of gold
And all must tread this broken sod
On a stairway up to God
There His beauty we'll behold
I must go
Oh, I must go


Glass Houses

If we lived in glass houses
Where the passer-by could see
Would we rearrange our life-style
To be-fit publicity?

We don’t live in glass houses
Walls can’t talk and you can’t see
But there is One above us
Who beholds us constantly

If we lived in glass houses
Oh, how mindful we would be
If we know One sees above us
Should we not live more carefully?


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Trouble Is...

The trouble with longing is
There is never enough of it

The trouble with loving is
There is never too much of it

The trouble with needing is
We all need to be needed a bit

The trouble with longing is
You are too far away from it

And the trouble with loving is
The longing we find in it


These Hours

When these hours lie behind us
With its fleeting minutes shed
When they’ve sifted through our fingers
Into sunsets flaming red
Will we sleep in sound contentment
Or in sorrow hang our head?

When the sun was high and golden
With the sweat upon our brow
Did we ponder what we’re holding
And where it would be right now?
Oh, and did it make a difference
As life's moments ebb and flow?

The fool gives careful heeding
To his sublunary worth
The wise knows he is needing
What is not attained on earth
While Time’s incessant bleeding
Fills a sea of tears and mirth

When these hours lie behind us
In the vaults we cannot touch
Will we wish that we could reach them?
Would we change them very much?
Or will we sleep like children?
Mindless of the past and such


Children of Yesterday

We sigh at the vice of technology
Keeping our boys and girls from play
And wish for things like they used to be
We are the children of yesterday

We remember the good of the good old days
As its shadow of hardship fades away
We herald them now in sighs of praise
We are the children of yesterday

Computers and iPods can never replace
Holding an album or turning a page
We pity the victims of life’s frantic pace
We are the children of yesterday

We covet the aura of freedom’s bliss
As we pause to absorb the sunsets lay
It reminds us of those things we miss
We are the children of yesterday


I lived this today...

Of You

Across the hills of low-flung mist
Across the daffodil softly kissed
Over the field of verdant hue
Steals the hour of blue…and you

Over the meadowland dark and serene
Across the valley, lush and green
You stir the dainty forget-me-not
With a teeny, tiny thought

Into my heart and into my mind
Into the recesses undefined
Into each aching avenue
Trickles the little thought… of you


Wishing from my Window

Shoal of gray-blue cloud
Stretches to the horizon-line
Casting a chilly shroud
Where the garden lay unruffled; supine
Its carpet of warmer yellow
Darkens to a cooler sheen
Spring is a moody fellow
And spring is a fairy queen

She bathes my garden with sunshine
He grumbles in melancholy
She sparkles in colors sanguine
He replies in blue poetry
Spring is a winsome maiden
Spring is a blustery foe
Spring is a day in the garden
Or wishing from my window


With Me

Wherever I go, you go with me
‘Tis the way of love, I suppose
For there is no way you can leave me
Darling, you are far too close

Wherever I go I can feel you
Warming me with your thought
There is a sense of your heart-beat
In every battle, hard-fought

Wherever I go, I hear you
Whispering in my ear
Oh how I wish I could cheer you
The way you cheer me, my dear

Wherever I go, you go with me
Miles cannot keep us apart
For they cannot sever you from me
I carry you deep in my heart



We cannot change the truth
Its lines remain unstirred
Though with lies we may disguise
Its clearly written word

We cannot change the truth
Its sphere we cannot alter
Though we may hide beneath our pride
Its gavel will not falter

We cannot change the truth
It stands with firm endurance
Truth can’t pretend and in the end
Truth is our lone assurance

We cannot change the truth
Though we may push and pull
Lies will fail; truth will prevail
Its law we can’t annul


Be Still

We need to be still for a little while
How else can we hear God?
As we rush through each endless mile
Upon the road we trod

We need to pause and hear Him speak
Through buds unfurled in splendor
To feel His kiss upon our cheek
In sunshine, soft and tender

We hear Him in the bird that sings
To herald the new day dawning
Across this broken void He flings
A pure and azure awning

And should the tempest rise to sweep
Away our temporal pleasure
We feel Him as the tears we weep
Remind us of our treasure

We need to be still for a little while
To touch His hand of wonder
He stirs the daisy-laden mile
And wields the arm of thunder

We need to be still so we may know
Upon this path we trod
No matter where the road may go
He is the one true God


Be still and know that I am God. Ps. 46:10


There is no other time earth speaks to me
As in the day of spring
It returns triumphantly
Painting dull landscapes green

Skeletal limbs become the arm
Of delicate, verdant lace
The sky is blue, the sun is warm
In spring’s renewing grace

Winter folds behinds us in a memory
We embrace hope’s returning
With a glad, rekindled energy
It quells our silent yearning

I slide my fingers softly across the dirt
Relinquishing with out-drawn breath
Into shallow graves my temporal hurt
While seeds are planted in the earth


Monday, May 9, 2011

Caught Between

It seems that on some days
I am caught
Between who I was
And who I am going to be
I contemplate
With rueful thought
The state of
My insanity
As I trip across a stage
Known by some
As middle-age


This Moment I Am In

I must pause and drink it all in
For it will never pass by again
I must absorb the dust and dew
Gaze at the starlit avenue
Where awe and mystery unruffled lie
Cloaked in the supremacy of the sky
I must embrace the thought of you
Before it slips into the blue
And I must touch the quietness
With a reverent caress
Absorb its pleasure and its pain
For it will not pass by again
This moment, this moment I am in
I may take with me the thought of you
The sight of stars, the scent of dew
I may look to starry seas
And wonder at its mysteries
I may touch subsequent hours
Fill my hands then with its flowers
And find a new and sweet delight
In moments far beyond tonight
But I will never live again
This moment, this moment I am in
‘Tis a swift and fleeting thing
This moment, this moment I am in