March Casanova

Hush, hush, my love, he murmurs in a summer-tone of dreams

Soon, soon you will be lolling by time’s turquoise-tinted streams

There, there, don’t fret; soon you’ll forget this flurry-flustered fray

For history has never failed us; spring will have Her way

And she will spill her daisies, she will thrill yon hill with bloom

And fill the rill with laughter, plant pansies on winter’s tomb

And tickle trees with fine-spun breeze and tease the roving gaze

With green in every shade and sheen foreign to painter-trays

Hush, hush, my love, soon the dull grove will wade knee-deep in flow’rs

Soon, soon, the promises of June will tune time’s tight-lipped bow’rs

There, there, don’t fret, for never yet has Time forgotten Her

Hush, hush, methinks I hear a song of pinks and purples stir

© Janet Martin

Winter-tantrum

 

No, no, the patriarch of winter brutishly declares

I will not saunter quietly into the placid past

For I am not quite ready to relinquish the affairs

 Of all things white and boreal to a forgotten cast

And so he balls his fist and pummels Nature’s readied stance

He tromps across the boulevards bedecked in Wakening

With rancor, like an enraged bull he buffets the romance

Of Countryside all starry-eyed at suggestions of spring

The numbering of days is not in his favor, he knows

And lashes at the windows barred and shuttered to his wail

No sympathetic door swings wide to usher in his throes

So he unleashes woes in marble epitaphs of hail

He overstays his welcome like a guest without a room

A noisy mutineer, he blusters with threats bold and vile

Attempting to fluster the maiden with arms full of bloom

…he seems to sense to disarm him all she will do is smile

© Janet Martin

Already many power-outages in this storm…another ice-storm!

All schools near and far are CLOSED!

So, the silver lining under the silver coating is a longer long week-end which might be spent cleaning up tree branches and downed power-lines!

This hourly forecast is cause for concern! According to this, freezing rain will continue until 3:00 p.m!

 ...and still, in spite of it all, finches flock to the flailing feeders!

Not Forsaken!

To the utter depths of darkness

Beams the steadfast light of Love

Into every hurt and heartache

Pours its passion like a dove

God, have mercy on our sorrow

God, let your Presence be known

Thou who didst bear every horror

Hears our pleading, needing groan

We are tried but not forsaken

Perplexed, but not in despair

For we know someday we’ll waken

Far and free from this world’s care

Though we stumble, God upholds us

Though we crumble, still we stand

For, to utter depths of darkness

Streams the love from Nail-scarred Hands

© Janet Martin

We remember the hurting in Brussels and include in those prayers a plea for those the whole world over where headlines of hurt and suffering could fill fathoms. God is faithful...

... we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; 

perplexed, but not despairing;  

persecuted, but not forsaken; 

struck down, but not destroyed;  

always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, 

so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.…

2 Cor 4:8-10

If We But Call

Here, in this world darkened understanding

Laughs at the Light because they cannot see

But this is no laughing matter because

Soon soul-dust will don Immortality

Here in this world we are called to walk holy

Worthy of the Calling that we have received

When The Light of God’s love gave understanding

And praise Him, not seeing, yet we believed

Here is this world, darkness seems the Greater

But the True Light gives light to one and all

If we but ask, Lord, Father, Creator

Pierces the darkness with Light if we call

© Janet Martin

 being darkened in their understanding, excluded from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, because of the hardness of their heart; and they, having become callous, have given themselves over to sensuality for the practice of every kind of impurity with greediness.…

Eph.4:18-19

There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man.

He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him.…

John 1:9-10

A Motley Crew... Holy Blessed

 Here we are; in a world at large

And we, blessed with the charge of it

Should learn to linger for a bit

Where Time is a camouflaged barge

Here we are; where the rush of hours

Insists upon that age-old way

Of morn-noon-night and day to day

Wending from winter through wildflow’rs

…and I for one would hate to miss

The gifts soft-strewed above, beneath

Each season like a sacred breath

Of life to death; a knife-edged kiss

This hasting toward who-knows-what

Would be a wicked waste of years

If we, blinded by fear’s cold tears

Trampled the very things we sought

Where Beauty is love’s thorn-stemmed rose

And heaven is a spring-green haunt

And earth, a wonderland of want

And Toil, the voile of kingly clothes

…and Here we are; a motley fleet

Soul-shod; vessels on seas of sod

Where seasons, like rhinestones from God

Scatter beneath our very feet

© Janet Martin