Monday, November 30, 2015

Fare Thee Well, November

November faded away in top form...
It turned out to be a perfect day to deal with a septic tank that needed pumping:)
...if there is such a thing as a perfect day for that; it could have been pouring rain or frozen ground
or snow storms, but it was a beautiful, sun-gold day!

November fades; a jaded rose
Surrendering to death’s repose
Like flowers in a garden where
Its bloom has bled each furrow bare

November dims; a solemn hymn
Drips from the stripped and dormant limb
Her dell is swathed in purple mist
A belle mantled and sorrow-kissed

November sighs; her tears run cold
And suddenly our eyes are old
And filled with visions of the past
Where stilled and sacred scenes are cast

November slips into the air
Like wisps of smoke climbing night’s stair
Into the vast and starry deep
To join past ages, fast asleep

© Janet Martin

Hope Is...

 Crank it up and praise Him!

There’s no right thinking apart from really thanking.
   A Holy Experience post by Ann Voskamp

Lord, let us learn to live a humble song of gratitude
Not by the What but through The Whom whereby hope is renewed
And let us not grow weary in well-doing for we know
That it is not through our power but Your grace, we go

Lord, let us learn to love in truth, and glorify the Name
That saves us from the curse of death, whereby we justly came
Hope, once a Sacred Stranger, suffered earth's vile dust of dross
His birthplace was a manger and His death-place was a cross

Lord, even in forgetfulness help us remember this;
Though fear and horror have their way, Lord, where You are Hope IS
Then let hope's thankfulness to You imbue each day we live
Lord, let us learn to be the love that only You can give

 Janet Martin

Advent Song

Upon the air an Imminence of celebration wings
Come one all as we prepare for heaven’s King of kings
The advent of a Savior from the curse of Adam’s race
Where hearts regain love’s favor through the power of God’s grace

Beyond the ever-winnowing rudiment we call Time
The Hope of Man is founded and grounded in The Sublime
Come, join the noise of joy we raise to He who hears our cry
And lent to earth His heaven-boy, God’s love to satisfy

Surely this love that saves us is a universal song
For God so rich in mercy gave us Jesus, His own Son
Come, no one is exempt from Hope beyond death’s cold, dark grave
But whosoever will believe in Jesus He will save

Upon the air an Imminence of Holy Advent hails
For Christ the Lord, Emmanuel, for Love that never fails
Prepare the Way for He who comes, not to be born again

© Janet Martin

November's Way

(yes, I must confess, 'I'm on a bit of a farewell tour... for November-ness:)

November has a way with hearts
It broods in hues of bronze, gray-blues
And often teases us with art
That only November imbues
It stirs the air with Bitter Sweet
And scrawls primitive silhouettes
Against the sky while ‘neath our feet
Its remnant laughter pirouettes

November has a way with words
My, how the poet rends its stance
Half-mad, her Muse is undeterred
An ink and wildling-wind romance
Where still, the will of quill half-poised
Rebels, and she returns to scale
The curves and colorless decoys
Huddled against November’s gale

November has a way with time
And suddenly we are aware
Of an ethereal pantomime
Swindling The Hour of precious air
This Thing that nobody can keep
Is soon like ashes in an urn
And ever veers toward That Deep
From which nobody can return

November has a tender way
Of showing us love’s hold-let-go
Life’s intermingled gold and gray
Depicts both wonderment and woe
Then, dearer is the darling day
Where summer’s rose and rondel spill
Because we know November’s Way
Is waiting over star-strung hill

© Janet Martin

From, For and To...God

We hold heaven's love-letter
Written, but not of ink
God dips His quill into yon rill
Hope spills in gold and pink 

His penmanship of passion
Encompasses the earth
It startles touch with mercy such
That none can spell its worth

The hand that cradles eons
Spans murmured moment-flow
And though we're small His All in all
Does not forget us, no

He renders anew
A letter of unbridled love
From God, to me and you


From, For and To
A universal Due
From God
For us
To live
For Him
From, For and To

© Janet Martin

That’s what today is;
A gift
from God
to live
For God
To give
From our hearts
To Him

Maybe We Should Think Again

Perhaps we think
When thought is thunk
That’s all there is…

But even thoughtless thought
Has a way
Of becoming the thing
We do
Or say

So lest we think
When thought is thunk
That’s all there is

Like milkweed silk
Or rain
…maybe we should 
Think again

© Janet Martin