Michelangelo

PAD Challenge day 4: For today’s prompt, pick a painter,
make him or her the title of your poem,
 and then, write your poem.

Image source of Sistine Chapel; Wikipedia

 

because only this

leaves us full-awed

the sacred tryst

twixt man and God

...and only this
since time began
Bridges the rift
Twixt God and man

...and only this
fuels the fire
that puts God's kiss
on man's desire

Self for self
Or man for man
Can never inspire
What God can

Janet Martin

Un-expectation's Delight

 The coast was not clear for cross-country skiiing today,

but rather like a choppy sea...Gorgeous!

Surprised by God, His artistry so often unexpected

Yet, if we look we surely see His grandeur interjected

Where often, off the beaten path and lesser traveled places

His tender mercy makes us laugh with unexpected graces

The laureate of loveliness delights us with pure wonder

And tends to mankind’s happiness with Masterstrokes of splendor

Where none can satisfy the eye like the God of creation

Where none can awe the heart with art like the God of salvation

© 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 Soon-seasoned Art (and first hair-cuts)

 There goes our Baby!

 Big-boy first hair-cut!

Don't hold on to Time; tis futile

embrace Now but not too tight

Feel moment-ous Marvel sparkle

Through our touch and out of sight...

How tender, each splendor of soon-seasoned art

Time draws us together and tugs us apart

It grants what is given and takes it away

Summer is soon riven with rivers of gray

How subtle, Time’s metrical moment-parade

Primed with the rebuttal of passion’s swift trade

A pitiless poet; Duty and Dream smart

Where one moves the hand and the other the heart

How certain, the curtain that rises and falls

Snuffing yon horizons with star-sequined shawls

Lifting its elusive veil to gift Today

Ah, always renewing and taking away

How red are the roses disposed to decay

How precious the pictures that frazzle and fray

How tender the tick-tock that startles the heart

With breath-by-breath splendor of soon-seasoned art

This temporal treasure we measure in years

Is naught but a vapour that soon disappears

Now's nuances trumped by the Hands that impart

 The Way back to Him through Time's soon-seasoned art

© Janet Martin 

December Decoupage

 This morning at first glance it seemed the Painter's tray

 was filled with colors like drab, dreary, bleak...

 ...but on closer look. wow! look at all those colors in this decoupage!

and glass-rhinestone garnished trees!

 ...feathered sketches

The splurge of snow that fell the other day becomes a sea

Of puddle-mirrors; a gray shawl is tossed across the lea

The sodden leaves, like russet decoupage pressed to earth’s heart

Soft-stirs the downcast gaze with Beauty’s undefeated art

Where the easel that holds the canvas that unfolds each while

Always showcases Something that reflects the Painter’s smile

To rouse within the nature of our very human ways

A glorious sense of wonder and a humble hymn of praise

© Janet Martin

But, if we are feeling a little 'gray' here's why! (click link)

Winter Almost Spent...( and a little Brantley-chuckle)

Does Almost-April's-Artist ever stop you in your tracks with a big, old WOW! 

Stunning simplicity is his style... doesn't it just make you wanna smile BIG?

The art of Almost April spills its charcoal sketch to burnished page

It draws tall towers on the hill that that bore the roar of winter’s rage

A tipsy-doodle in the middle of a yellow noonday spread

Makes Old Man Winter’s bluff and bluster melt like honey on warm bread

The art of Almost April etches the outline of naked trees

Like masterpieces on earth’s barren girth of wind-swept leas

It steals the breath of on-lookers eager for canvases, un-white

And keens the sanguine summer-dreamer’s bloom and green-leaf appetite

The art of Almost April often under-rated wows us so

It’s supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Oh,

Then stop and tip your fine felt hat to the painter of whimsy, dear

With but one color on his tray to decorate earth’s plain veneer

The art of Almost April kindles in the heart a heady flare

It makes us ready to return to till the land so still and bare

The art of almost April soothes the weathered wounds of discontent

And splays with dusky grays a work entitled Winter Almost Spent

© Janet Martin

I couldn’t figure out where Brantley found a piece of bread he was gleefully chomping on

…until later when I peeked in where I left the oven door open a little to finish cooling the loaves!