Humility

Humility
Elusive, if sought
Her virtue cannot
Be gained by thought

And if perchance
Her wine I sip
It turns bitter
On my lip

She demands
No law or creed
As through love’s hands
Her colors bleed

Her royal gown
Is not of thread
Rather a crown
Upon a head

Yet, she reserves
Her treasured lot
For those who wear
Her without thought

She is the reward
Of love’s perfection
Not so much a form
As a reflection

Humility
Never flaunts herself
And yet her beauty
Out-shines all else

Janet

In a Perfect World...

http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

In a perfect world
Untainted
This would be Eve
before the serpent
beguiled
and she begged
for fig leaves...

Janet~


Genesis 3
The Fall
1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3 but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’”

4 “You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. 5 “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

Is This All There Is? #2

Is this all there is?
Hope refurbished with hope
Assurances of ‘better days’
As to its void we grope

Is this all there is?
A fleeting day of youth
Before the cold and solemn kiss
Of consequence’s truth

Is this all there is?
A grasping of thin air
Before hands fold upon our chest
In coffins of despair

Is this all there is?
A kaleidoscope of dirt
Chaotic sequences of bliss
And brokenness and hurt

Is this all there is?
A pithy poem or two
Before our painted emptiness
Is stripped for all to view

Is this all there is?
Without our God to trust
Yes, this is all that there would be
A journey back to dust

This is not all there is
Though bodies will decay
They hold within a living soul
That never fades away

Janet~

For God so loved the world
He gave His only Son
That whosoever believes on Him
will not perish
But have eternal Life. John 3:16

Is This all There Is?

http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/2012/01/carry-on-tuesday-141.html



Am I proprietor or slave?
The toil of both lead to the grave,
Do they not?
And is there any merit then
to strive to do the best I can
with what I’ve got?
Or is life but a temporal means
until the swaying ever-greens
weep on my tomb?
The dust of all is equal there
No evidence of wealth or care...
...is death my doom?
and what of all the tears I’ve wept?
Is there any tally kept
Of joy or sorrow?
When the beggar and the king
rest side by side at evening
with no tomorrow
Will one be of greater worth?
or is this life upon the earth
a grand illusion?
A little blip upon a screen
An actor in a random scene
of mass confusion
Is this really all there is?
A journey to vast emptiness
No rhyme or reason?
From the cradle to the grave
Is this the breadth of all we have?
Four quickened seasons?
How dark then, growing old would be
A hastening of futility
To cold, hard sod
Beyond this life is so much more
The grave is but a dust-clad door
That leads to God

Janet~

This is...Winter

This is the hour
Of frozen duress
Waiting for summer
Like a boy for recess

This is the hour
Of frost-gilded limb
Where noon is the whisper
Of day growing dim

This is the hour
Of popcorn and such
Of fire-place gatherings
Instead of the porch

This is the hour
A gardener recollects
The glow of a flower
That spring resurrects

This is the hour
Of mug-warmed finger-tips
Of rosy-cheeked children
Kissed by winter’s lips

This is the hour
Where summer hearts wait
Until spring’s jeweled bower
Closes winter’s gate

Janet~

Brook Song- Part Two...Part 1 below winter-brook poem

Its a collaboration
Of free verse and rhyme
Somnolent, raging
Through pastures of Time
Dormant and dreamy
Then eager and dashing
Flinging its music
Of silver-gray splashing
Across gleaming pebbles
Beneath tree-limb bridges
Rambling, then tumbling
From pine-studded ridges
A glorious master-piece
Lilting composition
Played to the wanderer
Without inhibition
Now chuckling, now whispering
It rises, then dips
A chorus of hope
Pouring from winter's lips
Winding its laughter
Of bubbling mirth
Beneath heaven's rafter
Across the still earth
Through crystalline meadow
And undisturbed nook
Where nothing is moving
Save the song of the brook
Easing the passage
Of winter along
Simple, yet striking
A soul-soothing song
Composed in the recess
Of nature's repose
Unseen Maestro conducting
Its music that flows
From cavern and gully
From woodlands forsook
Winter's redemption
In the song of the brook

Janet

On 'House'-keeping

It’s not all neat and tidy
With everything in place
There are corners that are dirty
It is true, I must confess
And no matter how I plan to keep
A tab on everything
It seems, although I sweep and sweep
It isn’t very clean

Today I stood and looked about
At every unkempt room
The clutter made me want to shout
And grab my trusty broom
But then I heard a still small Voice
Admonishing my threat
As I surveyed fruits of my choice
In heaps of sad regret

I bowed my head in silent shame
Touched by His tenderness
I have only self to blame
For this recurring mess
To keep a life in proper order
Must begin with humble prayer
Asking Him to sweep each corner
Trusting Him with every care

Janet~

The Brook in Winter

It is flowing again

The brook swallowed

By July’s thirsty seeds

Is tumbling; its refrain

Laughing between fallow

And wind-stricken reeds

It rushes once more

Eddying, curving

Through wood-lot and field

From summer’s spent shore

Toward winter’s unnerving

And spring’s verdant yield

Welcome retreat

Flowing to nowhere

From sources unknown

Its melody sweet

Drifts across winter’s air

Un-applauded, alone

Janet~

I stopped yesterday...just for a little bit, to listen to its song.

Winter Rain

It is nothing now
Our entitled grievances
Laid bare,
Rotting
In the spoil
Of all other things
Temporal;
Past.

The hour weeps
Its forlorn river
From the sky
On a mosaic
Desolate and bleak
Like pieces
Of a broken
Heart.

All would be hopeless
Failure our greatest
Achievement
Disappointment
Our legacy
But for one
Eternal hope
Grace

It gleams
From trembling lips
Of a new day
Quivering beneath the horizon
And the river
Flowing from
Winter's down-cast
Eye



Janet~

Winter Rain

It is nothing now

Our entitled grievances

Laid bare,

Rotting

In the spoil

Of all other things

Temporal;

Past.

The hour weeps

Its forlorn river

From the sky

On a mosaic

Desolate and bleak

Like pieces

Of a broken

Heart.

All would be hopeless

Failure our greatest

Achievement

Disappointment

Our legacy

But for one

Eternal hope

Grace

Janet~

Master Painter

Into His heavenly palette He dips an ethereal brush
While slumb'ring earth lays dormant on the palm of midnight's hush
He gently breathes in dulcet tones upon the darkened sky
A hint of lavender and bronze to tease the wakening eye
And as the doleful veil recedes with heaven's passion stirred
The puddles, lakes and oceans bleed in colors of His word
As hope takes on the burnished hue of orange and ruddy glow
Reflected in the morning dew like ruby-tinted snow
Then drooping hearts and heavy eyes are lifted from despair
Enlightened by the glorious art-work startling placid air
And bolder now the Painter speaks, impassioned in His quest
To render sangfroid doubters weak and His believers blessed
He splashes ‘cross the universe fluorescent pink and gold
Stroking afar the blackened curse in shades redeeming; bold
As grace in glorious form declares, ‘Behold, the great I AM'
His wonder fills the morning air; the shadow of The Lamb
Whilst I in my amazement whisper softly, ‘who am I
That You should bless me with freely with this master-piece from high?’

Janet~

Perfect Poet...

His poems are not constrained by words

They shout from sky and land and sea

For who on earth has ever heard

A purer form of poetry?

The poet of this humble sod

Could not one stroke of beauty pen

But for the poetry of God

Written on the hearts of men

Janet Martin~

My Yibberish to Gibberish

http://withreahttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifltoads.blogspot.com/ Prompt: nonsense

They say a woman’s brain is like spaghetti
My only reghretti
Is I forghetti
which strand of spaghetti
I was following

Yetherday I think I thunk
But Thurthday’s thinking
Thlipped…kerplunk
I think I need a new thunk
…no, I’m not drunk
I don’t thunk tho anyhow…
Think-you very much


Janet

Answered Prayers

Lord, when you answer in ‘yes’ or ‘no’
I resign and contemplate
But oh, it tests my patience so
When it seems that Your answer is ‘wait’

Janet~

Victoria was elated this morning as she saw more snow...
"Finally", she exclaimed, "winter is here for real, not just in little clumps!"
I didn't have the heart to tell her that there is rain in the forecast for the week-end;))

Drops

Like a drop of rain
Slipping from the grass
Weightless perfection
Moments gleam and pass

Like a drop of honey
Trickling south
The sun dissolves early
In winter's mouth

But the thought of you
Is a long summer day
A drop of pleasure
That will not melt away

J~

To a Loved One...

You are never far away
though miles separate
and life seems designed
to keep us apart
you are always near me
for I hold you close
in my thoughts
and my heart~

Janet

The 'Love Test'

Lust is stirred by the visual
Love is stirred by the Invisible

Lust is limited
Love is eternal

Lust is selfish
Love is selfless

Lust is a fool’s gold
Love is wisdom's pearl

Lust craves
Love satisfies

Lust demands
Love is patient and kind

Lust takes
Love gives

Lust thrills
Love fulfills

Lust is restless
Love is peace

Lust is always seeking
Love waits

Lust is imprisonment
Love is freedom

Lust dies
Love lives

Lust is vanity’s deception
Love is pure and true

Lust preys on weakness
Love is unfathomable strength

Lust doubts
Love trusts

Lust is a roaring lion
Love is a steadfast hope

Lust flaunts the obvious
Love is a beautiful mystery

Lust is base
Love is divine

Lust flatters
Love praises

Lust wears many masks
Love, none; Truth needs no disguise

Lust is a jealous god
Love is God

Janet~

This New Day

Feet touch down on pristine crest
Of unmarred Time
Aspirations of hope persuade
My will to climb
Beyond the benediction
Of failure laid to rest
I close my eyes and whisper, Lord
Help me to do my best

Upon its flawless tarmac
I brush soft threads of prayer
And shed the cloak of longing, wrought
By echoes of despair
The unknown lies before me
The known is left behind
I exist somewhere betwixt
In moments un-designed

The purple-gilded sky-line
Declares that night has fled
As duty’s iridescent rod
Beckons me from my bed
I cradle for a moment
Dear loved ones in a prayer
Feet touch upon life’s pristine crest
As hope breathes on the air

Janet

What then shall we say to these things?
If God is for us, who is against us? Romans 8:31

Seasons

Snow covers the earth
In argent sheaf
Time covers the heart
And heals its grief

Earth cannot rebel
Against Time’s season
We cannot fore-tell
Life’s rhyme or reason

Soon bitter cold
Must relinquish its grip
Soon we are old
As moments slip

Snow covers the earth
Beneath its sod
Springtime waits
For the whisper of God

We pass the way
Of life, but once
Only what’s done
For others, counts

We cannot re-arrange
One jot of the past
But live each day
As if it were our last

Janet~

I Remember

The night dips low in a forlorn tune
Her robe is heavy, blurring the moon
With silver breath, yet no limb stirs
Inaudible song; unscripted word
As I remember…

The darkened hue of her moody eye
Deepens the blue of the night moving by
Gone is the frolicking laughter of May
Cold and silent, it slips away
And I remember…

The air is keen with memory's sigh
Pushing the snow-laden dark awry
The hush of midnight sprawls on the air
A hymn of longing, love and despair
While I remember…

... the cooling of lips as you walked away
the aching of words that we could not say
the bleeding of anguish against the sky
the echo of years in one word...good-by
Yes, I remember


Janet~

Us

Not as the hope of gardens
Frozen in winter’s sod
Or tempests bowing the hemlock low
In cold forced worship to God

Not as the physical hunger
Growling its urgent plea
Nor as the hunger of nature’s wrath
Sweeping across the sea

Not as the rising and falling
Of dawn to midnight’s chime
Guiding the quadrille of seasons on
Over the landscape of Time

Love is no summer in waiting
…a hunger of constant torment
Though its storm may surge through our beings
In passion never fully spent

Love is a pure, purposed constant
Eluding the will of my pen
Complex in its unrivaled fullness
Evading mere script of men

In the rising and falling of moments
Or the seasons that vex earth’s cusp
Oh my darling, it is bliss to know
That love will always be…us

Janet~

Winter Dusk...

If only for a moment
Stop; be still
Motionless as the cloud
On distant hill
Or the snowflake
Hovering without sound
Ere it falls to oblivion
On snow-covered ground
As still as the breeze
Holding its breath
As winter serenity
Cradles the earth
As staid as the reeds
Blooming in snow
Or the flight of a bird
Etched in the glow
Of the burnished sun
In its silent descent
Or the moon climbing quietly
From the Orient
Deepening the sallow
Of noon-tide hue
And painting the fallow
In ribbons of blue
As still as the tree-limb
Stripped of its shade
Yet bolder in beauty
Its naked form splayed
Against the sky-line
As daylight grows dim
Stop; oh, be still…
…and you will hear Him


Janet

I was out the other night at dusk…
…the quiet, startling,
…the western skyline rich with nameless colors
and the east an ever-deepening intensity of blue.
It was AWESOME.

Tuesday Late Afternoon Haiku

Blissful caffeine jolt
Pianist seeking pleasure
Painful notes collide

Knitting needles click
Rush of rain beneath traffic
Supper sizzling

Daylight swallowed whole
Aroma of contentment
Sighs in the twilight

Janet~

Of Unforgotten Things...re-post from a year ago on Jan. 17th

http://margaretbednar365.blogspot.com/ Margaret gave me an idea...to see what was on my mind a year ago today...

Now and then the twilight steals
An hour from the dreamers calm
Entranced by sudden phantom reels
Playing out across its palm
Suddenly the landscape rings
With songs of unforgotten things

And there beneath the willow tree
And the locusts serenade
We gathered in camaraderie
Sipping ice-cold lemonade
And dreaming dreams befitting kings
Molding unforgotten things

Upon the cold and frosty air
I hear the soft and gentle tone
Of a mother’s voice in prayer
When her day of toil was done
And the night wind softly sings
Of dear and unforgotten things

I view in silent reverie
Each scene that passes one by one
Through portals of my memory
Here for a breath and then it’s gone
Until perhaps a moment brings
The sigh of unforgotten things

Janet~

I just re-read this poem a few days ago. I was trying to find some poems my parents would enjoy. My Dad is an 'invalid' for the first time in his life (he broke his collar-bone) He is seventy years old and he said he has been hurt before but never had a broken bone...and never anything that kept him from work for any length of time. He still helps my brothers on their farms.
I put together a little scrap-book of photos and poem to share my 'hobby' with him. I included this poem. Ironically, it is the 'year ago' poem.

Consummation

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2012/01/viceversa-midnight-snack-weekly-prompt_17.htmlhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

I allow thoughts of you to consume me
Without the fear of remorse or regret
Darling, how is it that nothing can move me
Like you; as you whisper in my heart and my head

I endeavor to collect countless memories
In their warm presence I am blissful; content
Let history repeat itself; when I am with you
Every moment is a moment well-spent

J~

Follow the Leader

I followed my heart
But I think it lied
The heart is a fickle
and foolish guide

I followed my head
It's advice staidly done
Now all that I need
Is a whole lot of fun

The moral of this tale
Teaches one simple fact
A life well-lived
Is a balancing act

Janet~

Those Things We Never Say

She would have preferred
Collecting memories
With you
Instead she collects...
Things.
Granite strainers,
Rolling pins,
Stamps.

J~

Margo Roby is challenging us to write about those things we never say... She is giving us permission to say them! This is going to be fun. (if I get the time;)

Tuesday Morning Haiku

Groceries put away
Produce washed; ready to eat
Little boys playing ‘fort’

Rain-song on driveway
Heaven mirrored in the grass
Fog clothes barrenness

Janet~

Housewife's Monday Afternoon Haiku

Clean clothes frolicking
Boisterous winds tug the line
Laundry room tidy

Music of water
Becoming chamomile tea
Prelude to short break


Longfellow a-waits
Dickinson leans on his arm
An enticing pair

Stainless steel sink gleams
Tap dripping constant eighth-notes
In a tuneless song

Janet~

Redeemed

Redeemed,

Not by His

evil crown

of thorns

Not in His

flesh, beaten

stripped, torn

Not in the ghastly sword, or the hammer and the nails

But in God’s amazing love eternal; that never, ever fails

Because He gave His only perfect Son, Jesus, to die, and

in His blood

Oh redeemed

am I; not by

vain deeds I

have done, no

but through

the Cross as

God’s own Son

poured out His

blood to pay

for sin; and oh

Thereby I am

Redeemed. Yes.

Only through the

blood of Jesus Christ

and His righteousness

Janet Martin

Housewife's Monday Morning Haiku

Monday morning smiles

Sunday echoes in piled mugs

And dirty dishes

Monday morning sings

In a harvest of laundry

Waiting to be washed

Monday morning gleams

A glimpse of heaven’s glory

Whispers from God’s lips

Janet~

Sometimes, to see the beauty of a Monday morning

one needs to look up instead of down;))

Guess what I am off to do!

Daylight's Aftermath

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

The sun has tread the corridor
From dawn to twilight’s edge
The shadows, crisp and silver-blue
Recline on earth's broad ridge
As time, the great philosopher
Without apology
Inhales the spectacle of day
To depths of history

The woods sweep up against the sky
In dark still-life designs
Embellishing the modesty
Of winter’s dormant lines
As thoughts like dotted ellipses
On phantom skeins of thread
Emphasize vain memories
On reels inside my head

I contemplate the rush of years
A surface calmly stealing
The aftermath of smiles and tears
And even as I'm kneeling
Yet, still the moments haste away
With silent resolution
As one lone star pins back the day
In twilight’s dissolution


Janet~

The wordle fit in excellently with some pictures I took while the sun was setting tonight...Thank-you Barbara and Brenda.

Gathered Thoughts

On poetry:
To hold back the poem
Burning inside of me
Is like forcing back rivers
At the mouth of the sea

On Strength:
The greatest strength is proven not in the holding
but in the power to let go…

On moderation:
Indulge every so often
It won’t kill you
And life is short
Do not indulge
Too often
For it will kill you
And shorten life

On trust and humility
“God” I ask, “Why must these things be?”
He replied, “So you trust with humility”

On sacrifice and submission:
God, don’t ask me to give up this little thing…
It is so very small
In fact, it is so little
It should not worry You at all,
Please, don’t ask me to give it up

On authenticity:
If the branch is attached to the true Vine
It will yield fruit fit for Heaven’s wine

On judging:
Unless we’ve lain with him in the trenches
And tasted the same bitter dirt
We ought not to judge our brother
On his reaction to hurt

On giving:
If you are giving where it is unappreciated
It does not mean you are giving to the wrong people
Especially if those people happen to be
Your children

God gives freely to us
In each moment

On serving;
We go
Driven by a force
Beyond human reasoning,
Love

The Very Beginning...

http://thewordwhisperer2.blogspot.com/2012/01/beautiful-gift-from-beautiful-friend.html

Carrie Burtt's story at Hope Whispers caused me to recall with sudden clarity when I began to write...today I was trying to decide why it is I need to write...I'm not sure I have the answer but it began when I was nine years old. I was sitting on a straw-covered step in the barn and suddenly I had a poem...a song actually to the tune of the stanza part of Rest By and By.

(I dug out the old black scribbler that holds my earliest dreams of writing) Here and there is a page with a huge X over it if I wrote it and then rejected it;))

This is the first poem I recall writing...

Me and My Savior

The great door of my heart
Is wide open each day
To let in the Savior
If he passeth that way

I often forget him
and sometimes go astray
But I ask forgiveness
When to the Lord I pray

I know how he suffered
On the cross of Calvary
And died in pain and sorrow
All because of you and me

He was laid in a tomb
By His friends who were sad
But on the third day
He arose, and they were glad

Forty days afterward
He ascended into Heaven
but the disciples kept the rules
That he had given

They preached to the people
In the countries far and wide
and told them of the story
How Jesus suffered and died

Janet~

I think the first three verses were the original poem and at some slightly later date I decided the poem/story was incomplete, hence the two columns.

Of Things to Come

It’s happening; you’re leaving me
Time sheds its guarded subtlety
It fills the timbre of your voice
I must concede; I have no choice
You’re leaving me

The way you look into my eyes
Has cut denial down to size
Your thoughts have changed as well they should
Time loosens strings and it is good
You’re leaving me

You’re leaving me; I look ahead
With throbs of mingled joy and dread
I wonder what God has in store
As you advance toward the door
You’re leaving me

To bolt the door I would not do
Many before have passed on through
Childhood extols its dividend
As love and pride and longing blend
You’re leaving me

It is the way of life and time
The broadening of a nursery-rhyme
Years bare their single-minded plan
A boy must leave to be a man
You’re leaving me

Janet~

Lest week Matthew (our son) had a few buddies over. When one of them first spoke
I spun around and did a double-take. I had not seen him in a little while
And suddenly his voice was deeper. Today, from another room, I heard Matt talking and it hit me…it is happening to him too.
When…how?

Where Would I Be?

Where would I be?
My fumbling thought
Seeks to express
My love, oh God
Nothing of worth
Have I to bring
To show my love
For you, my King

Upon this broken
Void of sin
Its grief would quench
True joy within
But then one thought
Occurs to me
Without Your love
Where would I be?

Tempted and tried
Lord, I would stray
Without Your light
To lead the way
Your mercy beams
Across the night
Where would I be
Without Your light?

Seasons and stars
Heed your command
And yet You hold
My shameful hand
As every sin-stain
You erase
Where would I be
Without Your grace?

Oh Lord, I have
One gift to bring
Accept the praises
That I sing
For living Hope
Has set me free
Without Your love
Where would I be?

Janet
But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy,
made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions
—it is by grace you have been saved.
And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus,
in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—
not by works, so that no one can boast.
For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Eph. 2:4-10

The Perfect Poet

His poems are not constrained by words

They shout from sky and land and sea

For who on earth has ever heard

A purer form of poetry?


The poet of this humble sod

Could not one stroke of beauty pen

But for the poetry of God

Written on the hearts of men


Janet Martin~

You Are Not Alone

When midnight is lonesome and heavy and deep

When need in your bosom is stronger than sleep

When longing is clenching the hope from your soul

And life is a journey without a clear goal

You are not alone

When empty arms yearn for someone to embrace

When love’s loss has stolen the thrill from life’s race

When cold lonely hours bleed away, undefined

And night’s endless hollow expands in your mind

You are not alone

When tears of desire and helpless despair

Weep in every heart-beat and breathe on the air

When only the darkness responds to your plea

And nothing but silence keeps you company

You are not alone

Someone is waiting to be a true Friend

Arms full of mercy and grace without end

God so loved the world that He sent His dear Son

He is a true, faithful Friend to each one

You are not alone

What can we do His fellowship to receive?

All we can do is simply believe

His grace sufficient is love’s offering

Tender, omniscient are the words of a King

“You are not alone”

Janet

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son

That whosoever believes on Him

Will not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

I will never leave you nor forsake you. Heb. 13:5

Love's Parting

There is parting, in love
But never good-bye
Though its force like an ocean
May flow from our eye
Sweet, ever sweeter
Its memories gleam
Caught in the current
Of Time’s hastening stream

There is pain in love’s parting
And an ache in its thought
But love overcomes
What desire cannot
Though oft, for a moment
A tear dims the eye
At the thought of love’s parting
…but never good-bye

J~

Moments are like bubbles..
we cannot catch them, but simply marvel at their
delicate beauty as they pass.

Revelation

Beneath the sea
Behind your eyes
Under the snow
The 'hidden' lies
Beyond the hill
Around the bend
Above the sky
At rainbows end
In your pocket
In your pen
In your mind
Hidden, but then
In just one tremble
Of your lips
A universe
Of 'hidden' slips

Janet~

Tango

Paramount passion
Legion of sorrow
Tonight we dance
and weep tomorrow

Never once
did it enter our minds
that both are intricately
Intertwined

Janet

Touching the Bottom of the Sea

She clung to his words
like a drowning man
but he let go
and she couldn't

Swim.

Janet

Blessing...or Curse?

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2012/01/thursday-think-tank-80-choices.html

Choice…the blessed curse

Wake or sleep?

Coffee or tea?

Toast, eggs or cereal

Or all three?

Milk whole, skim, low-fat, no-fat

Hair-style, straight or curl?

Or an up-do in a clip?

Mother-ish or girl?

Flats or heels?

Skirt or jeans?

Black or denim?

Dirty or clean?

Wing it alone?

Or, pause to pray?

Say, Good job, son

Or have nothing to say?

Consume longing?

Or be content?

Seek or observe?

Music or silence?

Hope or despair?

Foolish or wise?

Laughter or self-pity?

Truth or lies?

Peace and deliverance

Or anger and strife?

It’s up to you, my friend

But we get only

One life

Janet

We become the choices we make!

Life is a sequence of choices.

Choice is free, but consequence is inevitable.

Choose, this day who you will serve...Joshua 24:15

The Clear Winner...

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2012/01/thursday-think-tank-80-choices.html

Prompt: choices

H-m-m-m

To write or not to write

An addiction is never

Really a fight

Unless we desire to over-come

I’m addicted to the love of word

So writing wins

Every time

Janet

Great Gain

Lord, give me eyes to see the little things within each day

Open my heart and help me learn to see You in this way

A thousand, thousand whispers from You brush earth’s weary sod

Open up my ears so I may listen to You thus, oh God

I have no need for riches that will tarnish, fade and rust

But help me Lord to gather treasures of the heart, not dust

Lord, open up my eyes to see the wonder of Your love

Flowing from moments within reach from portals up above

Contentment is life’s greatest gain, combined with godliness

Lord, teach me then how to remain within its quietness

Janet

Godliness with contentment is great gain…1 Tim. 6:6

The Measure of Success

Our lives are not measured by milestones
Or how much money we make
But they are measured by moments
In every breath that we take

Day’s fulfillment holds no guarantee
Life is a fragile thread
Only our God can clearly see
The road that lies ahead

The proof of success is not tallied
By one major accomplishment
But it is proven, step by step
In moments wisely spent

Yesterday is memory’s echo
Tomorrow is a vast mystery
But here in this beautiful moment,
Breathes a dream’s opportunity

Our lives are not measured by triumphs
Or failure’s bitterest taste
Our lives are measured in moments
Far too precious to waste

This is the day the Lord has made
Oh what a wonderful chance
To live and laugh and love and learn
To weep and dream and dance

Janet

I’ve noticed something over the years on my blog…
In ‘searches’ the amount of times
the words ‘alone’ and ‘loneliness’ are searched
are quadrupled over all the other searches combined.
A stark statement of hunger in this world…

This is the day the Lord has made,
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Psalms 118:24


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tych9nFpq3M&feature=autoplay&list=FLsqea52gOM17vOYBlwPVKvA&lf=mh_lolz&playnext=12

Separations

As the winter rains wash the world
Theirs crumbles
Silence is a long and painful good-bye
In veiled shambles

Soft as a baby's breathing morning wakes
Flicker of hope
But, how does one shatter an invisible cage?
Air is hard to grope

To wish on another, weakness
Is an all-time low
But oh,in a thousand new lows she wishes
He could not say ‘no’

She stares through the window; an unbidden mirror
A wall tear-drenched
'It takes two to protect and maintain walls'
Truth is a fearless wench

Across the room five-hundred channels worth
Of chatter swirls
Thick silence seeks the safety net of noise
As raindrops wash the world


J~

A Winter Night Idyll

https://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/01/10/idyll-thoughts-tuesday-tryouts/

The wind is restless
Like a caged lioness
Seeking a wanton release
Stark pencil-line tresses
Against the far west
Mark the horizon’s crease
Twilight is spilling
Its dark blue tequila
Into the deepening sky
Tinting the evening
Until earth is an ocean
And sailors are you and I

The moon rises slowly
In reverence holy
Over the eastern sill
The stark, barren limb
In the dark west has dimmed
And the moody breezes are still
The moon-kissed ground
With never a sound
Is transformed to a crystal hall
Its subtle enhancing
Designed for slow dancing
We are drifters at a midnight ball

Hold me, my dear
For I think I can hear
In the silence, a symphony
Each tree silhouette
Is a marionette
Miming a rare melody
And I feel it start
In the beat of your heart
Throbbing against my cheek
An invisible choir
Of unbridled desire
And passion too willing to speak

The gallant remains
Of yesterday’s chains
Dissolve in night’s potent embrace
Fearless fingertips
Warm our eyes and our lips
The moon turns to hide its face
As the wind grows restless
Like a caged lioness
And the star in the sky strikes three
These dancers must sail
‘Ere the moonlight grows pale
We are lovers lost at sea

J~



Margo, I have no idea if it fits the prompt
but it was a lot of fun to write.
After reading John Greenleaf Whittier; Snow-bound

and then the poem by Christopher Marlowe
my muse was stirred:))

The photo I took last night helped as well.

Lean Years

“Look Alenka,
I am returning to my boyish figure,
The result of lean years”
Alenka throws back her head
laughing as tears
bathe her cheeks
“Ach, Milosz, ve vill never
look like tventy again
And then she winks…
but ve can feel it, eh?”
Now Milosz laughs, and together
beautiful notes blend
in the warm, sweet night
Trouble will end
on a morrow still hidden from sight
Love will take them through hard times
He loves her more than words can say
So he chooses not to tell her just yet
He got laid off today….

Janet


http://poetryjaam.blogspot.com/

The Architect (edited re-post )

http://magpietales.blogspot.com/ (top photo) Above photo- Toronto, Ontario Canada


In the birth of high-rises
Towers, sky-scrapers
Below the rewards of
Man’s greatest endeavors
There, at the base
Of his grand architecture
Is the most amazing
And intricate creature
…man

Buildings may draw
Our gaping admiration
As we stand in awe
At an artists creation
But the inevitable remains
This is simply a street
Lined with structures
Of steel and concrete
...dust

But, every last man
In all of these masses
Though he lingers admiringly
Or hurriedly passes
Is of equal value
In the Creators eyes
We are His workmanship
Bought with a price
...blood

Buildings will crumble
There is nothing so grand
As to be immortal
Or above the command
Of One, who created
Not of stone or wood
But blew on the dust
And made flesh and blood
…man

Concrete and steel
Will decay and rust
Flesh and blood
Will return to dust
But within every man
And beyond our control
Dwells the immortal
The undying soul
...hope

Janet~

Architecture is such a pleasure
To behold
The completion
Of a great dream.
But as I stood gazing in admiration
As crowd upon crowd rushed by
It suddenly struck me,
Every single person, in every single city
Or in the remotest corner of the earth
Never escapes the eyes of his Creator.
Architects dream, build, die
None of their work will remain eternally
But every man, woman, child,
Who breathes upon this earth
Will meet their Creator!
Hallelujah, He has also given to everyone
Living Hope
For the soul that will never die.