Saturday, May 15, 2021

To Ink-Wranglers and Revelers

In the middle of house-work,

burnt cookies (h-m-m! I wonder what happened to one!😉😋)

yard/gardenwork,

 flora...

 and fauna,


tot-care
 (aka laugh-till-I-cry and -tear-out-my-hair!!')


Midst this...
This poem, I've been trying to finish since yesterday morning,
begs the question, is it worth the hard-fought while?!
'Are there still parts of hearts unstirred?'
to make worthwhile wrangling of word
and try to capture winks of time
into a memento of rhyme?
And as I contemplated this thought
 midst all the modest mayhem
of everyday life I say, 
a thousand times 'yep'💝!

Are there still parts of hearts unstirred
By artistry of written word
Doth aught yet wait within the pen
To storm the gates of acumen

Tell me, is yet a poem left
To cheer the broken and bereft
Where archives groan with printed page
Of whispers honed from age to age

Can yet sheer wonderment remain
To cheer, to delight and sustain
As poem-seeds tremble and press
Can they sprout into Happiness

Beneath the skin, in heart and soul
Impressions of ink tug and toll
Surely tis not for naught, to free
The bloom from looms of poetry

Behold, the bud of daybreak brims
And earth is charged with heaven’s hymns
Hark, for the dark dissolves in grace
From Holy God to human race

The earth gives birth where nature’s law
Kindles the mirth of ooh and aah
And draws us, but not by our hands
To revel in momentous sands

…where tots are filled with lots of More
To inspire the troubadour
Innocent curiosity
The purest form of poetry

The Poet cannot justify
To gaze unfazed without reply
While welkin flask and task compete
Where star-tides wash work-weary feet

The poet returns to retrace
The aura of yesterday’s face
To kiss the curves of see-to-saw
To preserve for rekindled awe

For, like a fledgling, tots soon fly
Into a world of peopled ‘sky’
Like feather-down, silver and soft
The fluff of dusk-blown echoes waft

Where parts of hearts ache to be stirred
By artistry of written word
Where whispers wait with winsome wink
To storm soul-gates with wrangled ink

© Janet Martin

 "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; 
the whole earth is full of his glory."
Isa.6:3


'The earth gives birth where nature’s law
Kindles the mirth of ooh and aah'



What began with this burst of gold...

.
yesterday at sunrise...
(Is a sunrise not enough to waken the poet in all of us?!!)
...or sunset?

Is completed at Saturday noon midst much domestic distraction😅💗














4 comments:

  1. What a great post, Janet. Love your photos and the poem, I am especially drawn to these lines in the last stanza:
    "Where parts of hearts ache to be stirred
    By artistry of written word

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thank-you so much! This post is a keepsake kind. One to look back on when all memories of the weariness attached, have faded only the sparkle remains!

      Delete
    2. I hope the cookie sampling helped bring back the sparkle (wink)!

      Delete

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