Wednesday, January 16, 2019

A Winter-dusk Ditty

A cloak of quietness and stars
Obliterates the view
Where first the flush of pastel bars
Turned into flannel blue
Then deepened into ebony
Until all that remains
Is someone looking back at me
In blackened window-panes

© Janet Martin

Grand Stand-or-Sit Art Gallery

 It's a grand stand-or-sit
Art Gallery
We can stay as long as we like
He doesn't mind a bit
And admission is free!

Winter unveils a gilt tableau
We pause, like we’ve never beheld
Unfurled murals of sky and snow
Where white-blue-silver-bronzed hues meld

Like a still-life of ancient days
The Artist exceeds man’s request
Perfection does not change His ways
His easel always holds the Best

Where earth is like a gallery
That showcases (always in part)
The flawless handiwork of He
Who is unrivaled in His art

To rich and poor His brush extends
His Masterpieces small and large
As all of earth and heaven bends
With signatures of God In Charge

© Janet Martin

Of Moments Such As These

 Sometimes while the tots toddle and play in the snow...

... I snare a few pics as I waddle to and fro
seeking new wonders to devour
like winter's flower!

Through ramparts rife with stars and snow
Life's seasoned surges ebb and flow
Ah, storms subside then violets grow
On graves of winter spent
Where we of trial-and-error glove
Are always fitted with enough
To make the best of live-laugh-love
Beneath Time’s sky-wide tent

The tap-dance of Today soon dims
Where now a new arrangement brims
With never-before-wrested hymns
Soft-wrangled into place
For we, of mortal acumen
All students of love’s soul-full yen
Showcase footwork of ‘try again’
In ballrooms full of grace

This pain-and-pleasure albatross
This measure of both gain and loss
This heavy, treasure-laden cross
Can press us to our knees
To keep this frame of dust-to-dust
Dependent on hope’s humble trust
To curb the roar of wanderlust
With moments such as these

This oracle of day-to-day
Melts moments such as these away
Into the sum of do-and-say
A Very Holy Thing
As common molds of sleep and wake
Of hands we hold and bread we break
Turn Time into The Way We take
To bow before The King

© Janet Martin

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Rhythm and Time

She feels the keys of ABC’s to find the notes that fit the mood
Sometimes the song lilts, light as air; Sometimes it broods, slow and subdued
Dissonant resonance reverberates and jars, its art
Vexes the Maestro that is often torn between the head and heart
Darling, the days are dimming faster than they did when we were young
And oh, it seems our chores and dreams dissolve like snow upon the tongue
As doggerel and dirge enmesh, and wow, how have we come so far
And oh my love, is that a tear or did the heavens lend a star
And tell me when we reach the part where the melody loses time
Let’s make a pact to keep intact the tender rhythm of the rhyme  

© Janet Martin

I’m listening to Victoria feel out the keys on the piano while learning a new song…
and it struck me how both musician and writer ‘feel’ the keys!