Sunday, March 31, 2013

He Is Alive

If we had been there at on that day
To watch them take His body down
And then heard His disciples say
‘He is not here now, but is risen’
If we had seen with our own eyes
The guards that watched the stone sealed grave
Would we like Thomas, have replied
When I see Him I will believe?

We will be here on That Day
When Jesus’ Grace and Glory rends
The sky; like the veil, done away
Then, as His Majesty descends
We will see with our own eyes
The One who died to set us free
God is not dead; HE IS ALIVE
When we see Him, all will believe

© Janet Martin

  Beware, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God;  but exhort one another daily, while it is called “Today,” lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.  For we have become partakers of Christ if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast to the end,  while it is said:

“Today, if you will hear His voice,
Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.” Heb. 3: 12-15

Friday, March 29, 2013

Winter is Weary...

Skim lightly your laughter
Of cerulean blue
Over worn skin of winter’s avenue
Drape on the meadow
Waffled whispers of silk
Spill to the shadow
Your violet-breathed ilk
For winter is weary
And longs to be done
Relinquishing its dreary days
To the sun
Fallow and hollow and all things between
Yearn for fresh garments of floral and green
Skim lightly your filament
Over the earth
Teasing bud-jewels into blossom mirth
For winter is weary
Of its blustering
And longs for the cheery
Warm laughter of spring

© Janet Martin

Easter Poems

(a number of years ago I dreamed of writing an Easter Musical. It never happened but I have some of the poems here that I was hoping to work with...) 

Palm Sunday Song

Lay down your best garments, make way for your King,
O, raise up your voices and joyfully sing,
Praise Him for the mighty works that He has done,
Hail Him blessed King, hail Him, mighty One!

So raise up your voices and joyfully shout,
For if we are silent the stones will cry out!
Raise up your voices and hail your great King,
Let all of God's people lift their voices and sing.

Hosanna, Hosanna! Blessed be the King
Who comes in the name of the Lord!
Our lips will not be silent
For you've told us in Your word
If we should cease Your praises
The stones will then cry out!
So, from the dungeons to the mountains,
Let all Your people shout!

Hosanna in the highest, O, most blessed art Thou,
Hosanna to the Son of David, Will you join us now?
Blessed is the King of kings who cometh in His name!
Hosanna! Glory to the Lord and peace in earth and Heav'n..

O, let us not be silent, let all His people shout,
Lest we forget and then the stones would instantly cry out!
For His great Name, He will be praised and His will be done,
And His praises, if they must, will rise up from the stones.

O, what if we were silent and the stones would then cry out?
Never, Lord, no never! Let all His people shout!
Hosanna in the highest and hail our mighty King!
Forever and forever triumphantly we'll sing!

Praise Him! Praise Him! For all that He hath done,
Praises to the Father and praises to the Son!
King of kings and Prince of Peace,
We'll never let Your praises cease!
Lest the rocks should cry out, lest the rocks should cry out!
Let His people shout , let His people shout.

The Lord's Supper

Take, eat, this is my body,
My body which is broken for You,
Drink this cup and remember the blood,
The blood that I shed for you,
For as many as share the bread and the cup
To remember me ‘til I come,
With Me someday will joyfully sup
In yonder Heavenly home.

But tonight you all will scatter
as a flock of wandering sheep.
Because of Me, you will be offended,
In fear and sorrow weep.
Tonight one of you will betray me,
His disciples begin to cry,
In disbelief they ask Him,
Is it I, Lord, is it I?

They search His face in sorrow
As they lean upon His knee,
Tonight you all will leave me,
He repeats so tenderly,
But Peter rises to His feet
His Master to defy,
And Peter turns to Jesus
And this was his reply....

(next read Peter’s reply)

Peter's Reply (his love song to Jesus)

I love you, Lord, I love You,
O, my Jesus, don't you know
How faithfully I love you
Or how far I would go
To prove my sure devotion
Would take all of my days,
My lips will not falter
My feet will never stray

Cause my love's like a river that never runs dry,
It's as bright as the twinkle in a young lovers eye,
It's as high as the heavens and as deep as the sea,
Such, O, my Lord, is my love for Thee.

I would walk through a desert of burning sand,
If that's where You lead me I'll hold Your hand,
To the top of a mountain, my Lord, I would trod,
For Jesus, I believe You're the Son of God.

I'll go to prison if You ask me to,
Anything You desire, my Lord, I will do,
Though all others leave You, never will I,
For You, my dear Lord, I would even die.

But I could never, no never, no never leave You,
Cause I love You, I love You, You know that I do,
Forever and ever, my whole life through,
I love You! I love You! My Lord, I love You!

Peter’s Denial

Hey! You over there by the fire,
I think that I have seen you
with that Jesus of Nazareth man,
Are you one of them too?

"I don't know Him, I don't know Him!
Oh, I do not understand
exactly what you're saying
for I DO NOT know this man!"

Cock crows

There he is! He's one of them,
Say! You're from Galilee,
I believe that I've seen you with Him
And your speech betrayeth thee!

"I don't know Him! I don't know Him!
Oh, how can you say
that I am also one of them
When I've first seen Him today?"

Hey, sir! Are you with Jesus?
I say! You're one of them!
You walk like Him, you talk like Him,
You are Gal-il-ean!

"I don't know Him! I don't know Him!
Hey! I will even swear
I have never in my lifetime
seen this man anywhere!"

Cock crows two more times.. and Peter remembers his love song to Jesus,
and Peter weeps bitterly.

 The Betrayal

The birds in the trees are silent,
The flowers close their eyes,
The trees bend low in sorrow
As they hear their Master's cries
The moon in the sky is darkened,
The wind has ceased to blow,
For here within the garden
All nature seems to it cries

Daily You walked in our splendor,
Daily we hailed You as King!
Our Master, our Creator,
Maker of everything,
Lord of all creation,
Let nothing halt our song,
But now we bow in sorrow
For our Maker's hour is come,
Yes, our Maker's hour is come.

The disciples lay a-sleeping,
Subdued in slumbers bliss,
No silent tears or weeping
In this prelude to The Kiss,
Then lo, what breaks the silence?
What is this doleful beat?
A song of doom and violence
Shod upon their feet!

Jesus speaks, "Arise, arise,
Behold, he is at hand!
The one who will betray me
Before us now doth stand!"
Judas cries ,"Hail Master!"
And kisses the Son of Man,
Then Jesus turns to Judas,
And Jesus calls him "Friend." As He says

"Daily I sat in your temple,
Daily you heard my words,
And yet you bring an army
To betray the Lord of lords?
Daily you heard my teaching,
Do you not know who I am?
And yet you bring your swords and knives
With which to slay a Lamb?
.........and yet you bring your swords and knives
To betray the Son of Man!"


You Should Have Had a Palace 

You should have had a palace, a soft and royal gown
A gentle little cradle and on Your head a crown
You should have had each stately hall filled with celebration
As earth received in helpless form the Hand of all creation

But instead of a palace, a stable with a lowly manger bed
Instead of a crown and a royal gown, no pillow for Your head
Instead of a ball in a stately hall, a hillside cold and dim
Where shepherds heard the angel’s word and came to worship Him

You should have had a chariot with a throne in which to ride
Golden flower petals to scatter at Your side
Purple and scarlet satin would be too plain a gown
Rubies, pearls and diamonds too lowly for Your crown

But instead of a chariot ,a donkey, a plain and homely beast
A piece of bread to remember Your death was Your parting feast
The scarlet You wore was the blood that poured from Your wounded side
Your crown was thorns and instead of a throne, a cross on which You died

I should have no hope or pardon, no reason to be glad
I should be bowed low in sorrow, in shame hang down my head
I should be mocked and beaten and hated all day long
Tears should be my bread and meat and weeping be my song

But instead of hate there was mercy, instead of death there was grace
Instead of doom and a cloud of gloom there’s a smile upon my face
Instead of a load on a hopeless road there is Heaven up above
And that cross on the hill is empty still because of a Savior’s love

It should have been me upon that cross instead of the King of kings
But so one soul should not be lost You endured my sufferings
Instead of a king a servant, You hung on the cross for me
May I praise You and in return forever Your servant be

That Changes Everything!

He was born in a stable, centuries ago
Left glorious heaven for earth’s pain and woe
Why He was born, mankind did not know
But He was and that changes everything

Multitudes followed wherever He tread
Mystified by the words that He said
As the sick were healed and demons fled
At the Hand that changes everything

The fearful sought to kill Him then
This One who knew the hearts of men
As mobs chanted “Crucify Him”
They did, and that changes everything

Scourging, mocking, thorns, a sword
Then they crucified the Lord
But they could not hold back the words
He cried, and that changes everything

“It is finished” sins hopeless price
Paid in full by His sacrifice
As He died; the life of Jesus Christ
Given for all and that changes everything

But oh this is not the end of the story
Death could never claim the victory
As He arose in power and glory
He lives, and that changes everything


Who Took My Place?

Bound by sins dark chains
Condemned and doomed stood I
No  hope of life to gain
As Justice raised her cry
“Only, only death for thee
No hope, no hope to be set free,”
But then came One with head bowed low
He said to Justice “let her go”
Oh, who is this who took my place?
With crimson teardrops on His face

The King of kings and Lord of lords
No higher title can there be
When Justice raised her angry sword
Someone offered His life for me
Oh, my Lord, who could he be?
Who cared enough to set me free?
I raised my head to hear these words
The King of kings and Lord of lords

I fell upon the ground
As Justice screamed her plea
No reason could be found
That I should be set free
“Guilty, guilty,” was her cry
Her lone verdict “she must die,”
But then came One with head bowed low
He said to Justice “let her go”
Tell me, tell me who could this be?
Oh, who would take my place for me?

The King of kings and Lord of lords
No higher throne will ever be
Oh Lord, my God there are no words
To fully spell His deity
King of kings and Lord of lords
Oh, my Savior can it be
The King of kings and Lord of lords
Has paid my debt to set me free?

King of kings and Lord of lords
The best that ever there will be
The King of kings and Lord of lords
Has paid the price to set me free


Here is your king, Pilate said to the Jews.
But they shouted,Take Him away! Take Him away!
Crucify Him!
Shall I crucify your King? Pilate asked...John 19:14-15

Look at The Cross

Look, look at the cross, no, no don’t look away
See loves sacred offering on gruesome display
See the thorns, wicked thorns so humbly worn
By the One who loved all; All the sick and forlorn,
The foolish, the wealthy, all those who would scorn
His dear name; so look at the cross on public display,
Not in some dark corner tucked dimly away
But up on a hill for the whole world to see
Perfect love, awesome love for you and me

Look, look at the cross, at the dear Lord’s face
Bearing the shame of public disgrace,
A face that was spat on, yet knew only love,
The face of a King from a kingdom above,
A face which has power earth and heaven to move
In a whisper; yet on it flow crimson tears
As He weeps, not in pain but in love so sincere
He calls out to His father from upon this tree
The symbol of hope for humanity

Look, look at the cross, at the hands that are bleeding,
Pierced through with nails and yet He is pleading
That man will find mercy in this holy flood,
Forgiveness and hope in a perfect Lambs blood,
Redemption pouring from the Son of God
His hands stretch out for all to see
That this is He who sets men free
Hands that ministered to man’s most humble need
Have fulfilled their greatest work indeed

So look at the cross, behold the Lamb
The beginning, the end, the Great I AM
Look at his body, pierced and bleeding
Love flowing down for all who are needing
The hope of a Savior, as still He is pleading
Forgive them; and as darkness and thunder descend
His cry is heard through all the land
‘It is finished,” and now there is hope for the lost
If we look at the cross, if we look at the cross…….

……….and if we look at the cross, at the out-stretched limb,
Behold the blood and the suffering,
If we gaze on His love and the wonder of Him,
Will we think to be saved on that final Day
If we look, turn our backs and walk away?

Janet Martin

Shall I crucify your King? Pilate asked. John 19:15

Mary's Sorrow 

Darkness falling o’er the land,
People wailing, don’t understand,
As the gloom falls thick as night,
Fear and anger view this sight

Mary, Mary softly weeping,
Vigil at His feet is keeping,
Mary, Mary, great your loss,
Mary weeping at the cross

Teardrops flowing, her heart broken,
Jesus showing mercy spoken,
'Mary, Mary, see your Son,
John, behold this dear woman'

Mary, Mary, at the cross,
Weeping, weeping, great your loss,
Is this glory, this a throne?
Mary weeping for her Son

Mary, Mary, did you wonder
As the cold earth shook with thunder?
Is this triumph? Cruel cross,
Mary weeping for her loss

Is this the sword to pierce his soul?
Simeon’s words in days of old,
Is this victory, this great loss?
Mary weeping at the cross

Mary, Mary, ‘neath death’s tree,
Weeping there in agony,
'It is finished, it is done,'
Mary weeping for her Son

Mary, Mary, meek and mild,
Mary weeping for her child

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

When Jesus saw His mother there
And the disciple whom He loved nearby He said,
To His mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and
To the disciple, “Here is your mother’.

This verse always really touches me,
In His hour of most intense agony
He remembers His mother.

He Lives

What a cold, cold, night, what a dark, dark day,
What a lost, lost world watched His life ebb away,
What a starless night, what a flowerless field,
When Jesus His will to the Father did yield

(Cho.#1)But, what glory in Heaven, hark, hear their glad cries,
As Jesus is welcomed to sweet paradise,
How the heavens re-sound and re-echo again,
For they’ll never stop singing their triumphant refrain

(Cho.#2) He lives, He lives, our King of kings,
He has defied death’s cruelest sting,
He lives, He lives, God’s only Son
Will reign forever on Heaven’s throne

What broken hearts, what hopeless tears,
As loved ones watched His hour draw near,
What an empty world left to decay
As the Giver of life is passing away (Cho.#1)

What a holy night, what a glorious day
When our earthly toils are thrown away,
Free forever from pain and care,
We’ll rise to meet Him in the air

(Cho.#3)Then what glory in Heaven, hark, hear our glad cries,
As by Jesus we’re welcomed to sweet paradise,
How the heavens will ring and re-echo again
For we’ll never stop singing our triumphant refrain

He lives, He lives, our King of kings,
He has defied death’s cruelest sting,
He lives, He lives, God’s only Son
Will reign forever on Heaven’s throne

Janet Martin

 It Is Finished

No more need of goats and bulls,
Set the masses free,
No need for blood of animals,
There nevermore will be,
Oh, look upon that perfect Lamb,
A final sacrifice,
For all the blood of goat or ram
Could never pay sin’s price

It is finished, it is done,
His mission is complete,
Look upon God’s only Son
With bleeding hands and feet,
Break your altars, burn them down,
Your offerings you won’t need,
See the brow with thorny crown
On roughened timber bleed

Open up the pasture gates
And let the bullock roam,
The perfect Lamb in Heaven waits
To draw each sinner home,
So look upon the empty cross,
Behold the barren grave,
No more need for sacrifice
For only He can save

By Janet Martin All Rights Reserved

On Frontporchpoetry
 labelled Easter poems are more of the collection...

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Thursday Thoughts on Love

With love
Not much else is needed
Without love
Everything isn’t enough


With love the smallest task is noble
Each humble home fit for a king
Without love the grandest castle
Is a sham of cold nothing


With love
We do not tally
Its effort or its cost
With love
We simply give and give
Leaving the rest to God


When all else fails
Trust love


When I think of God’s love for me
And what He gave on Calvary
My heart is touched with tender peace
Misgivings fade in sweet release


When I think of God’s love for me
And how He died to set me free
It seems foolish to think somehow
That He would overlook us now


With love we count our blessings
Without love we count our loss
True love begins with forgiveness of sins
As we behold the cross


If we love we have known God


Sometimes the weight of this old world
Would get the best of me
But when I hug my little girl
Love wins and sets me free


Sometimes life’s disappointments
Seems to come in ten-fold
But it is not so hard to bear
With love’s warm hand to hold


It is hard to simply trust
As faith is put to test
But if God so fully loved us
Then He knows what is best
For He did not, without a thought
Give His dear Son to die
But saw past Jesus' Suffering
Even to you and I
So when temptation bids us doubt
Or causes us to grieve
Remember what His promise is
To all who will believe


On Comfort and True Fasting


Who lives forever, holy King
Yet also dwells, not with the proud
But with the contrite suffering

From mourning lips I will draw praise
Your sinful greed and evil ways”

There is no peace” Holy God says
“For wicked hearts consumed with lust
They cast up mire from the waves
And revel in earth’s stricken dust

Is this the fast that I enforce?
And lie in ashes of remorse
Then return to his vile vomit?

To set the bound and oppressed free
To clothe the poor and share with those
Who hunger in their poverty?”

“Come” says the high and lofty one
As your night shines like noon-day’s sun
Hope’s garden watered with love’s deeds

© Janet Martin


How dark and vast would be the rift
Twixt Holy God and man
But for His saving grace: Love’s gift
Sin’s void of doom to span

How immeasurable, our debt
How utter death’s last loss
But for the oath in His last breath
And victory through the cross

How base would be this toil and strife
Where evil’s ploys deceive
But for the everlasting life
To all who will believe

© Janet Martin

Are there any words really, to capture the wonder of His love?

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son
that whosoever believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life. John 3:16

Wednesday, March 27, 2013


The mien that smoothly, softly crept
Across our childhood while we slept
Is the same tenure that still binds
Life’s timbre deep within our minds
And sometimes when the night is still
Or when dawn spreads across the hill
I sense a tug intense, obscure
I cannot bear yet must endure
With a brave smile upon my face
As I gaze on the resting place
Of moments as they gently swirl
The gossamer of laughing girl
And where she danced on springtime’s green
A woman stands where she had been


I have not heard this song in years but this morning it popped in my head as I awoke!

Neither Beggar Nor Thief


Oh, it would be unfair to tear
Frail fabric gently mended
But here, tonight upon the air
The music has not ended

And though Time delves into its depths
And flings upon the tresses
Another year of life and death
Of farewell song-caresses

They linger where the heart must bear
Life’s raw un-chosen sorrow
We bravely touch the suture where
Time cannot steal nor borrow


Hints of Spring

Fresh chives have sprouted and the lilac stem
Is jeweled with chartreuse and cinnabar gem
The sap from the maple tree trickles and sings  
The snowline recedes as the sun softly grins

The crocus is nudging, edging through the soil
With warm breeze suggesting a sweet garden-toil
The pasture of winter and frozen respite
Sheds its dazzling garment of glistening white

The farmer is whistling and watching each slope
Refurbished with passion of earth-scented hope
For this is the pleasure that overrides pain
Earth’s hard-earned treasure in gold-rippling grain

Plush pussy-willow, soft rose full-moon dusk
The air teased with whispers of sun-beam and musk
Sassy robin canticle drifts on the air
Spring hints its arrival but is detained somewhere…

© Janet Martin

March Garden

 (March garden today)

As I look at you now
With eyes half-closed
Every plant is a prize-winning rose

No sickly stems
Or dormant seeds
No gaps, no drought, no sassy weeds

Each row is extra-robust
Lush and bright
I revel in its florid hush tonight

For nothing blooms quite as perfectly
In late March, it seems
As the garden that grows in straight rows in my dreams

© Janet Martin

Celebration Poems

From Poetic Bloomings; Over the course of time, we have stretched the muses and minds of our extremely talented family of poets, with our prompts and forms, interviews and projects. So for this venture, Marie and I ask you to write a “Celebration” poem.   Celebrate your life, an anniversary, a birthday, an event… but do it in the form of a 10 X 10 poem (Ten lines times Ten words per line = 100 words – a century). Thus, we want you to write a Celebration in a Century (Celebration of the Century).

My Life-wish Celebration

I want to live so that when my Hour comes
I will not lie on a deathbed of sad regret
But peacefully then I will relinquish my final, farewell breath
Content to know that in life’s brief, mystic moment flow
I fully danced and freely dreamed and laughed and wept
Daring to fly with faith buoying me above fear’s crypt
So that when the last everlasting sleep steals over me
And sets me free from demons of doubt and want
I will surrender, reaching to Him with weary, ready arms
Satisfied to let go, surrendering softly to heaven’s eternal embrace

© Janet Martin

Celebrating US

We are a band driven by a common, luring thirst
Battling through highs and lows of feeling blessed and cursed
As we suffer blissfully the divine endowment of word vexation
Knowing at any moment we may be perplexed by temptation
In the curves of consonants joined perfectly with certain vowels
Dangling and taunting they whisper, falling from thought’s dripping jowls
As we stir soup or wander among children, women, men
Suddenly, the searing surge to grasp the frond of pen
Consumes our bearing and we cannot substitute or coldly mediate
With anything but written word; we are poets; we celebrate

© Janet Martin


Keeper...Line Messaging Poetry

Poetic Bloomings invites us to attempt;   LINE MESSAGING poetry, the final line of each stanza may be compiled to create an entirely new poem with its own independent message (a poem within a poem).  It appears there are no rules for number of stanzas, or rhyme scheme.   This form was created by Angel Favazza.

Dusk flowers gently over field and hill
Blush pink washes the patch-work quilt of spring
A surge akin to prayer ignites within
The Keeper of each hour tunes the rill

Each season sheds its purpose on the earth
The seed will grow; the chaff be blown away
Love’s Hand sifts through our humbly offered fray
And fills our wanton efforts with His worth

We cannot know the reason of His will
But like each season, joy and sorrow pass
We strain to see beyond this darkened glass
Where mortal imperfections keenly spill

Spring is the season of hope and re-birth
With hand upon the plow we till the sod
Trusting its harvest to a loving God
His faithful eye is over all the earth

(Independent Message)

The Keeper of each hour tunes the rill
And fills our wanton efforts with His worth
Where mortal imperfections keenly spill
His faithful eye is over all the earth

© Janet Martin

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

The Price of Anonymity

Sometimes it would be easier
To hide behind a quiet veil
Of anonymity,
Longing and inhibition
Than touch the pen
To ink
In signatures
Of admission

The sacred joy of love
Is a hard-fought, vexatious
And to bear it anonymously
Would be
To never fully taste
The pleasure of
Its kiss


To Love...and Be Loved

To love
Then be loved in return
Is all I humbly ask
But God, You know my heart
So God,
Please fit me for this task

To love
And be loved in return
Is more than I deserve
But oh, it is life’s sweetest joy
This troubled earth

To love
And be loved in return
Is such a kind reward
Yet all that I can think
To say
Is thank-you, thank-you Lord

© Janet Martin

Thank-you Sherry

Some folk fight for personal gain
Whether for glory or money or fame
Others are warriors of kind words and cheer
And you will find one of those warriors here.

Thank-you Sherry for all you do in the world of poetry.

Congratulations Jennifer. You also are one of those warriors and I am humbly honored to share this stage together:)
Love you(())

Of Sky and Relevance

The sky unfolds and folds again
The dark and light declares
Today’s beginning and its end
On century-woven stairs
Where sun and moon’s circuits attune
To Eden’s grand design
As year on year tallies this sphere
In ether-span of Time

Look up; the cloud, tumbled, serene
The vault of azure sweep
By day a cerulean sheen
By night an onyx deep
Throne of the moon and star-froth swoon
Of unnamed galaxies
Where ‘neath its sun we laugh and run
Shaping Time’s centuries

Look up; someday this boundless scope
Will fill with trumpet sound
As we behold man’s Living Hope
From temporal, trembling ground
For now its spreads above our heads
But then, a mighty roar
And Time will be no more

© Janet Martin

It is nigh impossible to imagine the sky on That Day

On Offerings

He gave Himself to please God’s will
He faced Golgotha cruel and grim
He poured His life out on that hill
Oh, what will we give back to Him?

He broke the curse of hell and death
Immortal God wore mortal limb
Shedding His life-blood for our debt
Oh, what will we give back to Him?

© Janet Martin

Love Song to the One True God

Holy, Holy, Holy
The love of our God
Spreads out before man’s ruptured gaze
His glory on earth’s sod
The ordinance of seasons
Unfolds His evidence
We cannot haste His reason
Or toss His purpose thence

Holy, holy, holy
He holds the stars in space
And flings from muted canopy
Another day of grace
In spite of our transgression
And passive platitude
He binds us with compassion
As darkness is subdued

Holy, holy, holy
This is the love of He
Who bathes us in redemption
Where our guilt ought to be
With holy tears of pardon
And holy drops of blood
With holiest submission
He bore the will of God

Holy, holy, holy
We cannot pick and choose
Which part of Him we will adore
Or which part to refuse
His power transcends perception
His Deity our trust
Ruler of earth and Heaven
With judgment pure and just

Holy, holy, holy
We cannot disunite
His glory from His goodness
His Lordship from His Light
He will not be defeated
Nor held behind a stone
And none but He is seated
In Heaven on His throne

Holy, holy, holy
His praise will never end
The Alpha and Omega God
Our Savior, Father, Friend
For He IS holy, holy
…our hope, alive and well
And this is He who sets us free
From fear of death and hell

© Janet Martin

Monday, March 25, 2013

Unchained Ramparts

How is it that you press against her sigh
Invisible as spring’s buoyant caress
And yet, with rampant, unchained recklessness
You toss the bulwark of her guarded thought awry

How is it that with door and window barred
You slip between the tresses of intent
To soothe and tease, to succor and torment
Where midnight splays across the silver yard

How is it that lost moments she held near
Return to whisper when the night is still
Pushing against the ramparts of her will
And spilling in one solitary tear?



Dawn drips its radiant runway from the deep
Returning color to the silhouettes
Etched in still-life above the gleaming sweep
Of opportunity over regrets
And from the ridge above earth’s minute trace
Where galaxies unfathomed coalesce
Beneath the visage of a Father’s grace
Dawn’s lends its kind, compassionate caress

Then cast aside those mantles of despair
And close the lips of cold, thankless complaint
The God who tends to sparrows of the air
Surely cares for the feeble and the faint
The diadem of morning’s gladdened mirth
Breaks through the veil of darkened somnolence
To clothe the ramparts of heaven and earth
In shadows of divine-breathed radiance

The dawning of a virgin day unfolds
Pray what will be the bloom in its embrace
Before west-seraphim of gilded gold
Will tuck its scattered petals into place
The dawning of a new day gently spills
Against the girth of somber, slumb’ring sod
Rosy resplendent ripples ‘cross the hills
In mercy-beams to us from gracious God

© Janet Martin

Of Everything We Cannot Change

The weight of everything we cannot change
May press against the levee of the heart
And though we yearn to shift or rearrange
The filament of its woven rampart
We cannot touch past’s immutable stage
Its frozen landscapes to obliterate
Nor crumple like an error-splattered page
The flawed, fragmented pictures we create
But look, upon the east from God’s embrace
He renders to earth’s offspring new-dawn grace

The imperfections of another day
Will soon unfold their mortal mystery
Its path of burnished evidence will splay
Fresh-footprint miles in frames of history
For we cannot thwart Time’s persistent breath
From night to day and back to night once more
Its astral clock will not succumb to death
Until the declaration of the Lord
As on the cusp of earth’s four-season dust
We spill the follies of our love and lust

…and thus, we bear its subtle aftermath
For what we sow is what we stoop to reap
Yet, grace aligns itself against the path
Where joy and sorrow tune the tears we weep
And mercy washes guilty stains away
The weight of everything we cannot change
Will not be held against us on that Day
For none redemption’s flood can rearrange
Or reinstate the debt that Love forgave
To break the curse that bound us to the grave

The bulwark of His promises abide
We are not doomed in spite of our dross
Look; listen to the words before He died
Sealing eternal pardon; from the cross
Where His blood poured in Passion’s agonies
As life ebbed from the limbs of perfect love
And “it is finished” rent the galaxies
Now hope fixes our gaze on courts above
Where Time can never shift or rearrange
The joy of everything we cannot change

© Janet Martin

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Of Patience and Moment-flows


Dearest child, clothed in blissful innocence
And dancing on life’s placid moment-flow
Like everyone, you too must learn patience
For soon you’ll see how swift the hours go

We smile and envy cautiously the restless gleam
Spurring you on to greener pastures sweet
The pure delight of youth’s unhindered dream
Is hampered only by Time’s sluggish feet

…and though we murmur ‘patience, child’ we nod
And urge you on in spite of what we know
For patience is a thing learned as we trod
The hastening of living’s moment-flow

© Janet Martin

Victoria began sewing her rag quilt today. She just asked if it will be done by tonight?! We are both having patience lessons as she is still learning all the little 'tricks' of the sewing machine, but she is doing great!
p-s-s-s-t! I am glad its the sewing machine though and not a car;)) v-r-o-o-o-o-o-m! Sc-r-e-e-e-e-e-c-h!repeat.