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Sunday, January 31, 2016

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!

Saturday, January 30, 2016

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



Friday, January 29, 2016

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

Thursday, January 28, 2016

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