Thursday, March 8, 2012

Lunar Hypnotism

A captive audience
Universal
Falls beneath your subtle spell
You sing your tune
In every language
To earth, wide-eyed and vulnerable
A maiden
Ever youthful
Casting your bewitching glance
To steal the hearts of poet's
In your soft, mesmeric trance

 © Janet

She looked so lonely as she stared through our window at dinner last eve...so I took her picture.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

My Prayer for you

May God give you courage
May He keep you strong
May His Presence fill you
When pain steals your song
May His whisper within you
Be your power and might
And gently sustain you
When you cannot fight
May His goodness and mercy
Guide you through the vale
And comfort you always
For His love will not fail

© Janet

I'm off to visit my sister-in-law who has had many years of hospital visits
and suffering due to an accident where her body was severely broken after
being hit by a drunk driver. She is one of the most beautiful people I am blessed to know.
In spite of daily reasons not to, still she has forgiven him and lives with joy.

If you read this, and if you feel led to, would you pray a special prayer for Karen and her family?
God bless~

Contemplating Words

If I had to write I would quit
Though I must write
It is not the same thing

I have not yet decided whether my Muse
Is Beauty or the Beast

With words we bless and curse
The mess we make with words
Is wiped up…with words

The epitome of longing has no words

Words are not enough
when it comes to you
Let’s enjoy the silence
Together
Alone

Silence is golden
…but only if nurtured by words

Flattery is nothing but tainted noise.

My best words I am saving
For you
But they have not been invented
Yet

Kind words are winter’s roses

J~

Genesis of Seduction~

This week’s featured poetry form is a bit of a challenge. It is called GENESIS. It has been devised by Walt Wojtanik, and takes its name from the musical group by the same name. The form consists of three (the last configuration of the group had three members) six-lined stanzas each with the rhyme scheme A-B-A-C-A-B (“ABACAB’ was one of the group’s big hits). There is no syllable count or any set meter.

Purple petals spread across the emerald grass
Their fragrance wafting on springs virgin breeze
I fall prey to their suggestions as they pass
To be seduced by violets is a glorious thing
I must find my slippers made of glass
For I am surely a princess in moments as these

It is no anemic and casual glance
You toss to me from across the room
We touch each other in an invisible dance
To be seduced by a lover’s eyes is a guiltless fling
Is it the heart or the eye that stirs the bud of romance?
Beneath love’s tender gaze, timid lilies bloom

In twists and swirls, you taunt and tease
With legends of spilled ink
You breathe across vast centuries
To be seduced by poetry is the pinnacle of ecstasy
Arousing keen awareness of my meager capabilities
I open my mouth to your lips, and I drink and I drink

© Janet Martin

prompted by Walt at Poetic Bloomings


This Tie that Binds...A Marriage Poem

This tie that binds
Man cannot see
Nor cut its strands asunder
What God has joined
Will ever be
Until one passes yonder

The sacred promise
Two hearts make
In love’s most holy union
Will form a cord
Man cannot break
By any measure human

Two on earth
Say ‘I take thee’
As hallowed vows are spoken
Two on earth
And God makes three
A cord not quickly broken

This tie that binds
Oh, what great peace
To know man cannot sever
But death, will be
Its sad release
As love lives on forever

This tie that binds
Our grief, our joy
Its tenure will not falter
Though storms refine
But not destroy
The vow made at loves alter

This tie that binds
Man cannot see
Not part its strands asunder
What God has joined
Will ever be
His holy, sacred wonder

© Janet Martin

 Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. 
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. Eccles. 12:4

What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. Mark 10:9


Echoes...

We tell them
And tell them
And tell them again
It seems that we speak it in vain
Yet someday perhaps
When they hear themselves then
They will hear our voices echo again…
‘Put your shoes in the closet
Put your plate in the sink
Don’t leave your coat on the chair
Shut the door; if you dropped it
Then please pick it up
At least pretend that you care
Don’t wipe your hands
On the front of your shirt
Don’t wipe your mouth on your sleeve
If I am sweeping, don’t walk through my dirt
And when you ask for something ‘say please’
If I am talking please don’t interrupt
If I’m on the phone, likewise
If I’m on the next floor, don’t yell, walk up
And no, please do not roll your eyes
If you leave the room, then please turn out the light
If you use the washroom, please flush
If you brush your teeth, please rinse out the sink
And PLEASE, put away your toothbrush
Don’t talk with your mouth full
And if there’s folded laundry
In your bedrooms please put it away
Don’t forget your homework
And don’t forget Jesus
No, don’t you forget how to pray
Pull up those covers
Don’t let the bed-bugs bite
May sweet dreams keep you all the night through
Goodnight my dear precious
Yes, I’ll leave on the night-light
Goodnight, good-night, I love you’

Janet~

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Unnamed Longing


I long for a song to still with its tongue
The restless void inside of me
But the sputter of rain on the dark window-pane
Increases my melancholy

I wish I could run in the pink April sun
Like I did when I was a wee girl
But a hint of gray has stolen away
The prisms of a stained-glass world

I clench the desire, but cannot quench the fire
Of yearning deep in my chest
For time is a dancer of mysterious answers
Burning in aggrandized quest

I wish I could find that place in my mind
Where wisdom and folly collide
Then I could adjust my vision of dust
And soft in life’s waiting abide

I cannot console the thirst in my soul
I’m prone to the wanderings of man
But I have one hope, for when I cannot cope
I call out to God and He can

© Janet Martin







How Do I Thank Him?


How do I thank the One who formed
The earth and sky and sea
Then in redemption’s hour wore
A robe of blood for me
Not one small offering of worth
Had I to give to Him
But still his blood-drops bathed the earth
In victory’s diadem

How do I thank the One who taught
The willow how to weep
The bird its song, the bud to bloom
And filled the azure deep
With universes infinite
Beyond my meager scope
Then spread His limbs on roughened wood
And filled my soul with hope

How do I thank the One who gives
For my vast guilt His grace
On my behalf He wept and pled
With blood-drops on His face
How do I thank the One who tunes
The wind and rolling sea
He light’s the stars, the sun and moon
And paid sin’s debt for me

© Janet Martin


Granted...


I wish sometime, I’d turn around
And see you standing there
Not an illusion in my mind
Or whisper in my prayer
But in the form of flesh and blood
The longing of my sighs
Would unfold from my fainting thought
The azure of your eyes
And all the prayers borne on the wind
In twilight’s waning gleam
Would be ten fingers now, entwined
Beyond a transient dream
I wish sometime I’d turn around
To see you standing there
But night descends without a sound
I breathe another prayer

J~


White Moon Night


The moon is white, it’s half-shut eye
Discharges twilight’s deepened sigh
As incandescent radiance flows  
Across nature’s frigid repose

The beauty of fair summer’s hour
Lies muted in an unborn flower
Its hope which trembles in our breast
Inspires both labor and rest

In rigid stance the raven pine
Enhances the horizon-line
A still-life sketched against the hue
Of moonlight’s argent avenue

We lay aside our humble toil
To scan the tides of moonlit spoil
The grandeur of an ocean stirred
Sweeps our souls without a word

© Janet Martin

I opened my mouth to tell them to look at the beautiful white night…
Then I shut it. Someday they will discover its wonder for the first time,
And marvel at the miracle of it all…







Monday, March 5, 2012

Contemplating Fear...

I fear the future quiet:
I fear the quiet of a still and sterile kitchen
Where there is no sound but the refrigerators hum
Once a haven of lively discussion
Of jam spills and chatter and breakfast toast-crumbs

I fear loss:
Anticipation, as a new day is stirred
The memory of your laughter in my ear
The lure in the dance of written word
The pleasure of having you near
The sanity I once took for granted
And maybe the tear as well
Because Alzheimer’s has stolen the person
Long before death’s gentle knell

I fear for my child,
Who, without no or yes
Has received the inheritance
Of my stubbornness

There is the fear of the unknown
Or the loss of a child’s faith
As they begin to question
What once they believed
There is the fear of evil
Hidden in a guise
That is soothing and delightful
To undiscerning eyes

I fear, more than losing a child to death
Losing a child to this world.

I thought once that I feared growing old
And I guess, perhaps if the truth were told
I still do

I fear being poor…
Not seeing gold in the sun
Sapphire in the sky
A diamond in the dewdrop
Or perhaps, in your eye
The riches of wisdom
Traded for dross
The folly of temporal
Molding eternal loss
I fear not wanting what I have
As I stand at autumn’s door
Knowing I must be brave
For I cannot return to summer’s shore

...sometimes I fear the rustle of the newspaper
becoming the wall we don't know how to climb
having nothing left in common
but what once was
and the ache for it to return
once more

But when fear overtakes me, and darkens my day
I close my eyes, talk to God until my fears melt away
He takes my despair and anxiety
As He whispers, dear child, I will never leave thee.

© Janet Martin

I never dwell on my fears for fear that fear will overtake faith.
But I did stop to consider them as I contemplated the Poetic Bloomings prompt.






Sunday, March 4, 2012

Hidden Terrors...yes, pun intended;)

http://poeticbloomings.com/2012/03/04/nothing-to-fear-but-fear-itself-prompt-45/


They leap from murky shadows
White heat dries my eyes as I try to run
With feet caught in quicksand
It is no use; my life is done
But as I brace myself for teeth meeting flesh
The bed jolts; I wake in a panting sweat

Sometimes they come at me
A black, lightning flash across the spacious yard
And I simply cannot move fast enough
Though a mile back I begin pedaling hard
It seems that their sixth sense knows
When there’s a bike-cyclist coming close

In a perfect world I could take a bike ride
And my heart would never race
Because everyone would keep their dogs tied
Denying them the thrill of the chase
Woof, woof, woof, my mouth goes dry
Who will be quicker, the dogs or I?

I really, really, REALLY HATE being chased by dogs.
When I was a girl I had to bike past a place where three big Dobermans
inhabited the front yard. It didn’t matter how silently I approached or how fast I was moving, they would give chase! I have remain terrified to this day! Yes it’s true. I am terrified of most dogs! Now you know…

Janet

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Disguises


We pretend to wait out
the wall of tears
pouring from the awning
onto the sidewalk
Streetlights gleam
...fuzzy golden globes
against the onyx air
while we are warmed by
the touching of fingertips
prolonging the agony
of thought
drifting
like sheet music on the wind
Lost ballad of
an hour bent with
farewell
No one can tell
as the same rain
washes our cheeks
in salty grief
that you will turn left
while I turn right
No one really knows
what happens
on a rainy night

J~

Flash-back...edited

A glimmer from the stars above

It is a tender song of love
And sometimes it makes me cry
I hear upon its plaintive moan
Words like ‘gone’ and ‘missing you’

And in its rippling undertone
The night blue……
Ballad of the wind

Seems to me there’s going to be
A continual encore
Music of a rolling sea
Or waves upon a distant shore
And I’m thinking that this song
Can not find a way to end
I will listen all night long
It’s become a sort of friend…….
Ballad of the wind

It’s a chuckle and a sigh
A ripple, and a rush, a roar
It’s ‘hello darling’ and ‘good-bye’
But oh, I think it’s so much more
Its ‘do you really need to go?’
‘When will I see you again?’
I hear the music start to blow…….
In the ballad of the wind
Oh, ballad of the wind

It’s a lonesome lullaby
Crooning from the star-strewn hill
It’s a love song from the sky
Pleading when the night is still
I would dance a little while
On some cold and darkened plain
To the music of your smile
And the ballad of the wind
Oh, the ballad of the wind

Friday, March 2, 2012

Time-song


The exodus of winter
Becomes spring’s arrival
But we cannot see time’s nimble-soft feet
Or the spawning of moments
As they tumble and trickle
Translucent as wind-song that sallies and sweeps
In ageless anthems
Across ambling waters
Teasing the travel of childhood’s wee brook
Folding to history
Its innocent chatter
Winding through pasture and timber-lined nook

Moments form ages
Yet age is a moment
When weighed in the balance with eternity
Time rolls toward us
From ethereal oceans
Dissolving on shores of infinity
We cannot leap forward
To the unknown before us
Nor turn again to its measure when past
But oh, what a wondrous
Perpetual chorus
Flows from the grace of the First and the Last

Departure, arrival
Mystic paradigm
As springtime evolves into summer’s blue haze
Yet still moments spiral
The essence of time
Forming life’s minutes, then hours, then days
Spinner of seasons
And lifetimes and centuries
Joy and grief rival in pleasure perplexed
Moment by moment
The edge of eternity
Closes the gap twixt this life and the next

© Janet Martin

I looked at these old trees and the ageless brook,
existing in nothing
but a sequence of moments.
How gracious God is...He doesn't shove life at us
in one huge lump, but in tender little moments.
Wonderful nuggets of potential. Even this mighty tree began as a tiny seed.







The Other Guy


Today I was the other guy
I watched myself as I walked by,
Today I got a chance to see
What others saw as I watched me,
Today truth opened up my eyes
As I stood with the other guys

I received the words today,
That thoughtlessly I toss away,
As I stood with the other guys
And truth stared back into my eyes
Beneath the candor of my touch
I wasn’t sure I liked me much

I got my own advice today,
I could not turn and walk away,
As I stood with the other guys
And watched me through a stranger's eyes
I blush a little now in shame
As I hear me speak my name

I used to wish that I could see
Perhaps, what others thought of me,
But now as I am standing here
I wish that I could disappear
Today I opened up my eyes
As I stood with the other guys

Janet~

Another attempt at the Anaphora Poem

Yesterday's Girl


Don’t go, not yet, I’ll miss you so much
Don’t go: Oh why are you in such a rush
Don’t go; the music insists that we dance
Don’t go; I beg of you one second chance

Please stay; I reach to restrain your feet
Please stay; for the hour is tender and sweet
Please stay; but you turn with a skip and a twirl
I wave farewell to yesterday’s girl

Janet~

Thursday, March 1, 2012

My Apolgy to my Writer's Group

I have discovered for the ump-teenth time
There is really no home for the poet of rhyme
And while I admit I have much to learn
There is a barred pasture for which I yearn
Where Tennyson, Long-fellow and Blake recline
Among all the great masters of rhythm and rhyme

My admiration runs deep for the artist of prose
The skill of their quill; the metaphorical rose
I strive to be brave enough to venture among
The haiku, cinquain, nonet, tanka song
But when I have wandered their courtyards sublime
I return once again to the pastures of rhyme

Beauty is in the eye of beholder, its true
I have understood as I beheld the senyru
And marveled at the tools of simplicity
Creating pure, breath-taking imagery
I bow my head, the truth now I know it
Dare I to call myself a poet?

Yet happily I gather words in my thought
Dither about for the elusive jot
I care not so much about status or title
The lure of words cannot keep my thought idle
Am I a poet or merely a shadow
Drifting in bliss through a wide open meadow?

So while some may gag at rhyme’s stringent plot
I have not learned how to un-rhyme my thought
Over and over I am lured by its dance
Yet drawn simultaneously by free-verse romance
So quietly I sit at the back of the room
Happy to observe poet’s in full bloom

© Janet Martin

I am blessed to be in a wonderful Writer's Group!

Glynis, I am not afraid of rejection
but I have not the slightest sense of direction.

Most publishers prefer the free verse, not rhyme
I think I was born in the wrong frame of time
So I must study prose's secret ingredient
For I have no free verse I consider expedient
to offer up to a publisher at this time.
You see, I tend to be a poet of rhyme:)
I'm posting this selfishly to ease my injured pride
before I see you tomorrow night...

sigh, I think sometimes
I think in rhymes...


Mount Kilimanjaro

Written for Poetic Bloomings prompt: Where the rubber meets the road

You didn’t tell me,
Though I came right away
When you told me
That they would take us
To the summit of
Mount Kilimanjaro

We climb away
Past the shadows
Flickering with wildebeest
And skulking hyena
Away from their whimpering
Childish cries

Above the moody landscape
Of burnt grass and bamboo slopes
Golden-red in the pining sun
Past the stench of rotting carcasses
To the coveted top
Of Mount Kilimanjaro

How I wanted to see it
That white square
Transforming to a coral sea
As the sun sets
Above a layered landscape
Of muted blue and green

You told me once
That something foreign
Occupied the space in you
Once filled with life
…but you didn’t tell me
You came up here
To Mount Kilimanjaro
To die

Janet

I was stunned the first time I read Hemingway’s
The Snow’s of Kilimanjaro.


Breath-notes in Life's Song

 Jon Schmidt and Steven Sharp Nelson

They tumble in between us
Good-bye still warm upon the air
Expanding in each heart-beat
And I don’t think they are aware
Of my sentimental wishes
Borne upon a stringent breeze
As I reach but cannot touch
The moments shaping memories

J~



Perfect, Infallible Survival Kit


It has everything we will ever need
It is both Water and Living bread
The tender Teacher in our strife
It is our refuge, strength and light
It is life’s compass, it is powerful and true
It is our rest and our Guide
It is the faultless Word of God

© Janet Martin

Survival

Today I must survive on the bare necessities

Your eyes
your lips
your hands
your thoughts
and words
your touch

oh, what a beautiful survival kit
the dawn is still dark
there is no one here but us
I suggest desperate survival measures

J~

Morning without You


Dawn’s bolder intrusion pries
Blissful slumber from my eyes
I tug the warmth of sweet repose
Across my skin and hold you close
But consciousness pulls you from me
Dreams cannot bar reality
As morning light fingers the air
I hold you softly in a prayer

J~

The Sonnet of Still-song


The rain has ceased its miniature applause
Night’s hush is amplified in silver mist
Its scarf concealing blatant noon-day flaws
Intimidating North wind’s bully fist
The ragged edges of a fading day
Hesitate briefly; then slip to the deep
Tomorrow hovers, half a night away
Beyond the argent hills of tallied sheep
The silence plays a soulful melody
It rolls across the valley, hill and lea

The knife-edged blue softens its keenness now
As still of midnight rouses reverence
The rise and fall of longing sweeps earth’s prow
In passion searching for deliverance
Within this temple built of grass and sky
The shepherd of a thousand hills presides
Sacred extolment ripples in the sigh
Of rain-drenched willow-limbs and country-sides
Motionless, spectral legions sweep the sod
In secret thoughts of love and loss and God

The still-song of the darkness steals my breath
Its ghostwriter and maestro void of word  
Whist passages of time drip from the earth
In compositions felt rather than heard
A stray leaf wavers, circles on the air
Then spirals in an eighth note to the ground
It strikes the perfect chord, somehow, somewhere
I revel in the silver-threaded sound
Of still-song trickling from the astral stage
In choruses without author or age

© Janet Martin

After the sound of freezing rain
Pelting on the window-pane
The night’s still-song is amplified
Sweeping the misty country-side…    





Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Leap Day

 At IGWRT they ask these questions today...

What color is your morning?
What are the shapes of your day?
What are the smells of your evening?
What are the textures of your favorite piece of clothing?
What are the sounds you hear right now?
What nourishes you?
What do you see when you open your eyes and really look?

 Play by play on Leap Day unfolding...

Gray arms cleave to Mother Earth
Dawn offers a bleak embrace
As ice tears dash her frozen turf
Coffee sings amazing grace
Obliterating dull despair
In amber sunshine on my tongue
Dear daughter dangles from my chair
As she observes how ‘poem’ is done
And then she’s off in twirls and whirls
Of Sunkist orange and sock-feet glee
Thank-you God, for little girls
I inhale simplicity;
The scent of wood-smoke from the fire
The flail of axe as son splits wood
The arguments of sibling ire
Life is good, life is good
Weather man forecasts cold rain
Red flannel smiles, warm fingers touch
Chocolate cake pulled from the oven
I don’t mind the cold too much
Oom-pa-pa notes dip and dive
Piano lessons cannot wait
Oh, it’s good to be alive
‘Snow day’ mornings sure are great

© Janet Martin

I wrote this poem as the moments played out…
The kids have a 'snow day'...no school. 
I realized to keep up with Victoria as she flits about the house is a whole separate poem!
Matthew split the wood, started a fire, then I told him he may bake his favorite chocolate cake and we’ll have ‘leap day’ cake for supper.



Roots

To teach a child morality
With no Base for its stand
Is like trying to plant a tree
On shores of shifting sand

Our eyes behold but half the tree
Though towering are its reaches
It is the Base we cannot see
Securing storm-tossed branches

The whole of moral law consists
Not only by instruction
But by a hidden measuring stick
That justifies law’s judgment

How can we teach a child of love
And yet deny its Giver?
Love has a Source man cannot prove
Without a Higher Power

How can we teach morality
Or fool-proof absolutes
And yet ignore the Deity
That gives the Law its roots?

© Janet Martin 

As I watch the wind bending the trees I marvel at their strength...
...the trunk never moves though the branches are thrashed in the gale.
And yet it is not the trunk which keeps it there. It is the part we cannot see.
The trees survival depends on the surety of the roots. If the roots are healthy and True the tree will stand.

It spawned a train of thought as I looked at my kids (snow day again) and I began to wonder how their 'roots' are developing. Will they hold fast in the storm's of life?


Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Time Enough or A Housewife Rebels


Time enough for mundane dues
The sun has flung a yellow wash
Across the earth; dull avenues
Transform beneath its gilded sash
And I must leave these bland confines
Of ginger-spice and lemon soap
Of laundry-poems with endless lines
The breeze, a gentle calliope
Strums eagerly the jeweled limb
It beckons to me from the air
As nature’s azure, lilting hymn
Seeps through the window to my chair
Where Duty with austere command
Points me to pots and pans and broom
But a kind stranger tugs my hand
And lures me to earth’s grand ballroom
Where now silk threads have teased the sun
To dim her golden smile a bit
For soon another day is gone
And soon the evening star is lit
For even now the pale white ghost
Of crescent moon dangles aloft
Before the sun has thought to coast
Beneath the western skyline’s croft
Time enough for mundane dues
Today offers no repeat chance
On lengthened shadow avenues
Kind stranger, may I have this dance?

© Janet Martin

…and so we did




On Waiting...


We cannot rush the unfolding of a flower
Or improve upon its flawless, fragile bloom

We cannot hasten minutes through an hour
To by-pass lessons in life’s waiting room

We cannot hurry seasons or extend them
The naked tree must wait for spring’s consent

We cannot form God’s preordained perfection
But we can trust and wait…and be content

© Janet Martin

 Wait on the LORD: be of good courage,
and he shall strengthen your heart:
 wait, I say, on the LORD. Ps. 27:14


I Wonder...


If I am the only ‘Jesus’
That some will ever see
I wonder what they think of Him
As they meet Him through me

If I profess to take His name
Wherever I may go
I wonder if they think of Him
As One they’d like to know

Janet~



Monday, February 27, 2012

Like Pipe-smoke on a Sultry Summer's Eve

You weave
through my senses
I’m entranced
by your lips
as they brush
my thought
in an ethereal kiss
and memories murmur,
a spiraling blush
into the dense
warm twilight hush
like pipe-smoke
on a sultry summer's eve
your presence
evokes
memories
softly, you weave
your way to me
over cumbersome answers
with questions never breathed,
truth cementing
fact into place
Still, I remain
touching your face
reluctant to call it a day
though moments pelt
the deepening silver-gray
like snowflakes melt
they fade away
into history’s expanding clutch
without tangible touch
Oh, it’s strange
how thought can stray
needing no map
to guide its way
across oceans
of twilight nothingness
to you...

J~



Mini-vacation


There are no maps
To direct me
No highways to follow
No hills to climb
But I can find you
With my eyes closed
Destinies of the heart
Are traveled
Through the mind

J~

The Onset of Things to Come


The dawn has spread, four hours deep
Across the thinning sky
Illusive ghosts of midnight creep
Beyond its waning eye
And on the cusp of things to come
With mystic fingertips
God’s grace unfolds a sacred bloom
As morning parts its lips

Inhale the nectar of His hope
Love bleeds miraculously
As Time exhales a transient scope
Of opportunity
And on the cusp of things to come
Another day begins
Mercy imparts from lofty Throne
Forgiveness for our sins

Beneath our feet a stepping-stone
Of moments yields its path
Leading into life’s vast unknown
From history’s aftermath
Ephemeral vapor on Time’s tongue
This brief reality
What was
What is
And is to come
Before
Eternity

© Janet Martin


Saturday, February 25, 2012

Abiding Treasure

The beauty of a word remains
Long after youth’s ephemeral dance
Or its passive and pleasant glance
The beauty of a word remains

Speak to me that treasure then
Far better it than transient fray
For when I am old and gray
I will smile with pleasure, then

Some strive for fame and fortune’s gold
Dross does not leave the spirit stirred
But oh, the splendor of a word
Is such a wondrous thing to hold

The beauty of a word remains
Long after youth’s ephemeral gasp
It will soothe our wanton clasp
The beauty of a word remains

J~

Fulfilled

Lord, let me never want for naught
The things that you have deemed not mine
In every moment, deed and thought
Not for a neighbor's blessing pine

Lord, teach me how to live and love
And never disregard my lot
Because of what I do not have
As in some greener field I sought

A thousand, thousand blessings, Lord
Daily pass before my gaze
In every thought, action and word
May I live to give You praise

© Janet~

Friday, February 24, 2012

My Mother


Queen of the mending basket
And stretching a dollar
And loving ten children
Each the best

My mother
Eye of an artist
Heart of a poet
Hands of a farmer
Patience of Job

My mother
The butcher, the baker
The tireless meal-maker
The gardener, landscaper
The seamstress and quilter
The tutor and teacher,
The nurse, the maid
The most beloved
Mother
Her name is Grace~

© Janet Martin

I'm thinking about my mom today (snow-day with MUCH noise)
and I am realizing once again what an amazing mom I had as I grew up,
and wondering how she did it....often humming as she cooked supper.
She is still amazing...(almost 70) and tirelessly serving wherever there is a need.

Invincible One-horse Power

Come freezing rain, sleet, snow
One-horse power will always go.

Janet~
 
I just snapped this photo as they passed by...completely unhindered by a hyped-up
-not-really-happening in the amounts forecasted,  snow-day.
It's business as usual for this horse:)

Storm-cloud Sonnet


He unfurls his talons, sharpens his sting
Vampire lunging at bold, unclad throats
He inhales misguided whispers of spring
Spewing his fury in icy-sharp notes
The wanton field ‘neath noon’s azure sonnet
Trees that were dreaming of lacy, green dress
Hills primed for frocks and pretty spring bonnets
Succumb to thrusts of his frigid caress
Visions of blossom and bloom now preside
Somewhere beneath the white veil of a bride

…and now the landscape is a white-capped sea
Sailors don mufflers and bright woolen toques
Somewhere summer waits, over argent lea
Brimming with gardens and chatter of brooks
We will not suffer too long at the prow
Bucking chill rivers on highway and street
Spring is the conqueror of all things snow
This frozen ocean is bound for defeat
Smile at the north wind with blue-puckered mouth
He will fall prey to fair maids of the south

This is the season of warm quilts and books
Then let winds grumble with thick, heavy jowls
Miracles stir in the snow-laden nooks
Quite undeterred by its bully-white howls
Noise is the mask of a fool’s emptiness
Flinging steel teardrops against cheek and glass
Soon its wild tantrum will cease its distress
Mustering threats that dissolve on the grass
This is the season of fire-side bliss
Hot-chocolate-marshmallow, sticky-sweet kiss

© Janet Martin

Song: Storms Never Last



Thursday, February 23, 2012

Well...


If I have lived a laughter-gilded mile
And grieved so I may learn its worth
To comfort another on this short road
To eternity
Then I have lived well

If I have learned to see beyond sight
And hear beyond sound
To the heart of nature
And child
Then I have learned well

If I have loved beyond pleasure
And returned, not empty-handed
But wiser and kinder
To myself and others
Then I have loved well

If I can rest in peace
Knowing I leave no enemies
Scarred by thoughtless word
Or deed
Then I may die well

 © Janet Martin

Random Haiku

The Chestnut

Prickly exterior
Time breaks through its hardened shell
Smooth, genteel heart

0~0~0~

Winter Wind

Icy white fingers
Clawing at noon’s mellow smile
Melting in his kiss

0~0~0~
The Rose…

Soft magenta folds
Bejeweled with crystal dew
Spills musky fragrance

J~