Poetry by God

God writes his poetry on sky and sea

He scrawls on halls of green with amethyst

Or on a lily’s upturned face, dew-kissed

Or in the weeping sigh of willow tree

God’s poetry drips where rain-minstrels sing

From russet autumn afternoon, the fell

Afire with a dying day’s farewell

It murmurs in a brook’s meandering

It broods in blue of winter dusk, in hues

Of lavender, blush, bronze, a flower-storm

Splashed on a hill, his wordless poems charm

The troubadour that pen and ink pursues

God spills His poetry freely to us

The sky, the land and sea proclaim it thus

© Janet Martin

Through God' poetry we catch a glimpse of who He is...

 All the earth will worship You, And will sing praises to You; 

They will sing praises to Your name." Selah.  

Come and see the works of God, 

Who is awesome in His deeds toward the sons of men.

Ps.66:4-5 

Wishing you a worship-full day!

Hide and Seek

Comb the air or troll thought’s deep

Scan the sweep of winter-tide

Trace it well for who can tell

Where a poem just might hide?

Linger in the boulevard

As dusk splays its farewell blush

Rise to taste time’s sacred haste

In daybreak’s first fleeting hush

Pause upon the shore of When

Now to Then has eager feet

Soon Time’s new will slip into

Vaults where age does not compete

Savor season-sentiment

Where the off-spring of a clock

Does not wait but strips the gate

Giddy with pink hollyhock

Comb the air and troll thought’s deep

Scan the span that stilly glides

To yon blue; dissect each hue

For who knows where a poem hides

© Janet Martin

Winter Gardening

We poke around in flowerpots

And spread out glossy centerfolds

Of photo-preserved garden-plots

We stroll paths lined with marigolds

And other dream-derived prize blooms

And in the transport of a thought

We resurrect from frozen tombs

The pleasure of forget-me-not

And daffodil waiting to spill

Its halos on a green-tossed hill

Where now the white of winter blows

And blankets beds of summer’s rose

© Janet Martin

Find more inspiration here and here

Since I don't have a garden-shed some 'tools of the trade' hibernate outside;-)

No Compromise

 No matter how badly we would like to hit 'rewind' on moments and change our response we cannot. Still, mistakes are not in vain unless we refuse to learn from them.

Sometimes we score...

 ...but more often it's slip-trip-get-up and try again.

This firm apprenticeship of Life,

This ever-learning, yearning strife

From its commencement wields a knife

Bent on shaping and making us

And with the brush of Night and Day

The Artist paints time’s gold and gray

Around us while we learn to pray

And say and do what becomes us

These appointments of rise and shine

Drawing us to Life’s Finish Line

Are ordered by a Hand Divine

Though we may argue, fret and fuss

The ebb and flow of dark to light

Holds more than time within its rite

Where hold-let-go arrangements cite

Lessons of life becoming us

…and thus, by our mistakes we learn

Through touch and tasting’s No Return

And our response to it; we earn

The right to try again, because

Though experience makes us wise

Still, its apprenticeship applies

To one and all; no compromise

In the art of becoming us

© Janet Martin

Moonlight Lullaby

Golden moon o’er yonder hill

Soft your tune of slumber spill

Like a cello aria

Play a mellow Kumbaya

Blue on blue back-drop exhales

Soulful lullaby regales

Where the throw of night is spread

With soft starlight overhead

Hard-edged noise and workday rush

Melds into the solemn hush

Of a lamp-lit lullaby

From a cello in the sky

© Janet Martin