The Glory Days

Image Source: gazettextra.com

First game of the season...

They tumble onto the ice

Miniature robots

And darting minnows

Each a super-star

In the rite of innocence

Because at four and five years old

You can do nothing wrong

These are the true glory days

© Janet Martin

I read an article inviting kids to Mites/Tykes Hockey...

"Come! chill out and have fun because mites hockey is all about having fun! That’s all!"

What happened to the rest of the levels? Oh, right! Expectation…and fear of failure.
 

NaPOWriMo Prompt: In honor of opening day! 

Here is one of my all-time Favorites by Kenny Rogers

 

Sullied Intention

I would stay up all night to love

You. I am eager for your charms

I have no objection as you delight

Me. Weaver of a thousand poems…

Your phantom lips breathe thought

I have never heard

as my expired dream is stirred

and resurrected by a jot

of crazy longing in my thought

for you have never sought my heart

without intent to tear apart

the wall of my guarded torment

you scale it; the resistance I attempt

insists on begging you to stay

for you are never far away

and yet you dangle in mid-air

somewhere beyond

my hemisphere

perhaps, perhaps I ought to sleep

I cannot write; you’ve cut too deep

J~

Of Great Privilege

It is no small thing

This privilege we are given

To approach the throne of grace

And God of earth and Heaven

To make our wants and wishes known

And claim His victory as our own

It is no mere thought

That we can freely call

Upon the Name of Christ the Lord

Creator of us all

That He who formed us from the dust

May be the One in whom we trust

When we beckon to Him

It is no casual place

That we approach with love and shame

To kneel in His embrace

But by His holy Blood-drops spilt

He vanquishes our debt of guilt

It is no small thing

This little word called prayer

As He makes intercession

For those groans we cannot bear

And there He lavishes on us

The hope we find in Him, JESUS!

© Janet Martin

 Pray without ceasing; 1 Thess. 5:17

Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Romans 8:26

Four Easter Tankas

The Tanka is a Japanese poem of five lines. The first and third are composed of five syllables, and the others seven. In Japanese, tanka is often written in one straight line, but in English and other languages, we usually divide the lines into the five syllabic units: 5-7-5-7-7.

Poetic Bloomings Prompt: tanka poem

While I chose my pride

He chose three nails and a cross

A spear in his side

While rivers of holy blood

Poured in streams of redemption

***

While I stood with them

Scoffing to hide my just fear

He gave perfect love

As He bowed His thorn-crowned Head

Declaring, ‘it is finished’

 ***

While I stood condemned

Jesus signed my redemption

With His sacred blood

And now all who will believe

May have everlasting life…

***

(I was going to stop here, but how can I? One more tanka of humble grateful praise)

Sing hallelujah

Lift your voice in joyful praise

Christ reigns forever

This King calls us His children

All we must do is believe

~Janet Martin~

100% Crazy

The way you unzip my heart

with your half-grin words

the way you undo my will

in an almost perfect hurt

the way you touch me

from a thousand miles away

drives me 100% crazy

every day

the way you lure me

with vowels and consonants

holding me captive

without resistance

because the seduction of poetry

will have its way

and drive me 100 % crazy

every day

what perfect torment

of soul you have stirred

in the inexplicable haunting of

unwritten word

for Muse oft elusive

will have her way

and drive me 100% crazy

every day

J~

Poetics Aside Prompt: 100%....something

A Couple of Blues Songs

Housewife Blues

Mama always said that there’d be days like this

Oh, mama always said that there’s be days like this

But ‘dis dog days been so doggone long, I think that’s all there is

Chil’runs got my van and they got my money too

Oh, them chil’run’s got my van and they got my money too

But they brung the van back with an empty tank, what is a mom to do?

Sonny, grab a pail, the roof’s begun to leak

Oh, sonny grab a pail ‘cause the roof’s begun to leak

But we’ll be fine, a little laughter and wine, until sunshine next week

Got me some lovin’ and I got me some singin’ to do

Got me some prayin’ and got me some thankin’ too

The Lord never leaves us, we’re gonna make it through

Blues Song

he flew in on a horse with one bad knee

naw, he rode in on a dragon from the sea

and everyone wondered who this man could be

he stole the heart of every maid in town

no, he stole the will of every girl around

while every man began to hunt him down

his words were brilliant like a halo-wreath

his words were smooth as honey-buttered breath  

but when he smiled he had maggots in his teeth

sally, don’t chase those lies of  azure blue

he’s a’gonna break your spirit if you do

‘cause nothin’s gonna last that’s too good to be true

he flew out of town on the end of a loaded gun

no, he rode out of town on the fist’s of every man’s son

and when they put him down oh, you shoulda’ seen him run

Janet~

NaPoWriMO Prompt: Write a blues song

A Royal Wedding

Image Source:  wordincarnate.wordpress.com

Behold: look yonder

See what breaks the ramparts of the sky

As golden thunder

Sends the stars in showers from on high

Behold; who comes

In royalty on heaven’s mercy seat

With angel legions at his side

Winged creatures at His feet

Behold; what sounds

What fills the air with roar of rushing water?

And who descends

With glory rare in search of Zion’s daughter?

Behold; behold

It is the Lord. Behold the Bridegroom comes

As hallelujah fills the air

His bride is coming home

Behold the Love

He sees her there in linens bright and clean

Behold the blood

That cleansed Her where vile sin-stains once had been

Behold the song

That rends the earth; behold the great I AM

‘Blessed are those invited to

The wedding of the Lamb’

© Janet Martin

Then a voice came from the throne, saying:
"Praise our God,
all you his servants,
you who fear him,
both great and small!"

6 Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:
"Hallelujah!
For our Lord God Almighty reigns.

7 Let us rejoice and be glad
and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.

8 Fine linen, bright and clean,
was given her to wear."
(Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of God's holy people.)

9 Then the angel said to me, "Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!" And he added, "These are the true words of God."

Rev. 19: 5-9

NaPoWriMo Prompt : write an

Epithalamium

(wedding poem)

No Apologies Necessary

You will never apologize to me

For taking my heart

One small piece at a time

Love expands hearts, I suppose

Because no matter how many pieces you take

There is always a little left

And I know you will never apologize

For the way you twist those remaining pieces

Inside-out

…but that’s okay

If you never apologize to me

I never apologized to my mother either

© Janet~

For Poetics Aside Prompt: Apologies or not

I'm Sorry, Dear Sir

Poetic Aside Prompt: An Apology or Un-apology.

I’m sorry, dearest sir
but you seem quite unaware
of the dangerous stir
in the atmosphere
and you seem oblivious
to my sudden attraction
Kind sir, may I offer
an explanation?

My dear sir, I’m sorry

but it is not your hair
though it is quite attractive, I agree
and the thing that is causing my open-mouth stare
is not your fine physicality
Your eyes are a striking and breath-taking blue
and I'll admit your face is quite handsome too
Your jeans, I am sure are a quality brand
but today I am drawn to that thing in your hand
and the scent that startled me as you strode by
rousing a wild, dangerous insanity
so unless you care to finish what you have begun
I suggest you hang on to your coffee and run!

Janet

Gleaming or Looming

The day looms before us

We know not its sands

Its mystery unfolded

From Heavenly hands

Shall we approach it

With trembling and fear

Or with the assurance

That our God is near?

The day gleams before us

What comfort to know

That God watches o’er us

Wherever we go

© Janet Martin

The unknown has the potential to fill us with fear...

...or hope. Which will it be for us today?

Does the unknown loom or gleam?

  So do not fear, for I am with you;
   do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
   I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isa. 41:10

Time's Pennies

Clenching my fist

What good can it do?

Life’s transient moments

Still trickle on through

Clinging more tightly

To the one in my grip

Does not alter courses

Of the moments that slip

Ethereal river

How swiftly you run

From midnight to dawn

To the setting of sun

Wee moment, time’s penny

A miniscule lot

But put them together

And see what we’ve got

Moments of pleasure

Moments of strife

Gathered together

In a beautiful life

© Janet 

Unfettered Bliss

Abruptly from unfettered bliss

The slumbering mind is wrenched

As alarms clocks across the universe

Announce night’s sudden end

…then stumbling out to greet the dawn

A new bliss sweeps our eyes

As heaven spills its palette on

The floor of paradise

© Janet Martin

Trees at Dusk

Like stalwart sentinels they stand

To guard the waning day

Their shadows stretched on muted land

Enfolding work and play

Dark, raven spires reach to brush

The portals where the moon

Lolls in the periwinkle hush

Of day’s retiring swoon

Silhouette, precisely-sketched

Against the crimson dusk

Their flawless detail clearly etched

In shades of dewy musk

Faithful, four-season master-piece

Of intricate design

Timber art rivets our gaze

To dusk's horizon line

© Janet Martin

Visitor

Image Source:  http://www.wallpapers-free.co.uk/background/nature/flowers_and_plants/yellow-and-purple-pansies/

He loved pansies

So she plants them

Over his heart

Every spring

No one sees her

Kneeling there

Replaying

Life’s brief dance

With him

Grief never tires

Yet, it is not

Love’s revenge

But its bittersweet harvest

Pansies flourish

‘neath the tears

Of heaven

And one lone

Visitor

© Janet Martin 

Prompt: Visitor

Invisible Visitor

No sound of footsteps on the floor
No tender arm around me
No slightest creaking of a door
How is it that you found me?

My eyes are open wide as day
I know I am not dreaming
I cannot turn my face away
The silent air is teaming.......

.....with images and memories
and whispers soft and flowing
How is it that you come to me
Within the twilight’s glowing?

And how, with door and shutter drawn
With locks all firmly bolted
How is it that I look upon
you now with longing jolted?

Too long, too long I've missed you so
I draw your arms around me
Tell me dear, I need to know
How is it that you found me?

J~

Prompt Poetics Aside Visitor

Black

 My brown book-cases were looking tired...I woke them up with black paint. I know this is a corny take on the prompt but it really was all I could come up with for now, having been immersed in black paint for the better part of a week:) Blame this on the fumes;)

Does your furniture need a face-lift?
Here's a plan of attack
Simply grab a brush
and paint it black

***

Don't know what to wear
to the party tonight?
If you choose black
You will always be right

***

Once I was a young thing
With heart still intact
But scars are a cruel thing
Invisible black

***


# 1 Song on June 7 1966 Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones...NaPoWRiMo Prompt; Use the # 1 hit on the day you were born for inspiration.

Think Spring

 

From This..

 

                                                    ....to this

Victoria and I were inspired by Megan yesterday:)

There is an essence of eternal spring
in little girls...
There is an essence of little girls
in the laughter of eternal spring.

Sweet is the carol
Of the robin's spring lay
Sweeter the orchard
decked in fragrant display
Are you heavy-laden
Lift your arms to the wind
Dance in the ball-room
Of beautiful Spring

Janet Martin

Whose There?

Knock, knock

Whose there

I open the door

But it’s just the night air

Knock, knock

Who could it be?

Misery loves

Company

Knock, knock

I guess I knew

Without looking

It was you

J~

Poetics Aside prompt; Visitor

Dear Yester- Girl...

Sometimes I wonder who you are

You seem different

Not at all like you used to be

Are you me?

Or just someone I used to know?

I’d ask you in for a visit

To get to know you better

Coffee, is it?

Or have you switched to tea?

You never can tell, these days

Sometimes I wonder who you are

And I want to know you better

But you keep inching toward the door

And all I can do is watch you go

...or do you even exist anymore?

Have you left for good, dear girl?

Being a woman is fine

But I must confess, I miss you

Dear, carefree, laughing

Yester-girl of mine

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside PAD Prompt: Visitor

...and sometimes I wear a Cape

Image Source:  dannys-angel.deviantart.com

I must not neglect

To don this cape each day

It helps me rise above

Come whatever may

Within this cape I sense

A glorious super-power

A genuine defense

In life’s most troubled hour

One day I rose without it

Despair and fear loomed tall

Then suddenly I heard it

A Super-power call

I felt Him wrap about me

No ephemeral thing

But, a cloth that’s kindred

To the angel’s wing

The unbelieving call it

Fantasy on dead air

The believer whispers humbly

And simply calls it Prayer

© Janet Martin

Poetic Bloomings prompt; ..and sometimes I wear a cape

A Triolet: Not Yours to Keep

Give it back to the world

That whisper in your soul

Is a banner, waiting to be unfurled

Give it back to the world

For when fear’s clenched fist is uncurled

Hope urges bravery to its goal

Give it back to the world

That whisper in your soul

© Janet Martin

Inspired by a quote read here

No man should be shamefaced through his work, to give back to the world a portion of its lost heart. — Louise Bogan 1897-1970 American Poet

Comunicating to Self

Hey you

Yes, you

there in the mirror

STOP, taking yourself

so seriously

and just

live for the love of it.

Does the sun grumble

because it is too hot

or the sky long for substance

that it is not

Or does the dandelion covet

a shade other than gold

Or, does the oak tree sigh

because it is gnarled and old

I think not!

But they live fully

in their own skin

and never beyond

the moment they’re in

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside PAD Challenge; Communicating

PAD Callenge: Communicating

I don’t care what you say, my dear

But just stay

Here,

With your breath on my hair

and your lips 'gainst my ear

It’s not so much the words you speak

as the rush of your scent and such

While wild crazy nothings brush my cheek

I melt beneath their touch

J~

Poetics Aside PAD Challenge

An Interview with You, my Love

You slip your fingers intimately

Through mine

For you know what I am thinking

By the hint of a smile

In the darkness

Between us

Is it an inch

Or ten-thousand miles?

Is there a difference?

For when it comes to love…

…to you,

There are no empty spaces

They are full of love

And  thoughts

Of love

The greater the distance then,

The greater the love,

But no,

For I love you completely

And in its completeness

There can be no increase

Or decrease

Simply

Love

J~

A Prayer...

You have searched me oh Lord and you know me

My shameful, vile innermost thought

But You love me still in spite of my ill

And cover my guilt with your blood

I cannot flee from Your presence

Though sadly, I admit that I’ve tried

When my guilt and my shame burdened me with self-blame

You placed Your grace o’er my pride

Lord, give me a heart of discernment

So I may hold fast to the right

Teach me your way and help me to obey

For You are the Way, Truth and Light

© Janet Martin

Psalm 139

John 14

Winter's Farewell Tear

Image source:  theshadeshop.blogspot.com

They fall tonight, like desperate tears

A pleading dance of woe 

Until the violet disappears

'neath frazzled flakes of snow

And all the verdure of first spring

Is blanketed in white

As winter, with a final fling

Muffles the countryside

The tender face of new-born leaf  

Shivers upon the limb

As overtures of winter grief

Falls on kind ears of spring

‘Be gone, ye fretting tide of chill

Each season hath its day

And though I bid to thee no ill

I cannot bid thee stay’

They fall tonight, the frozen tears

Of unrequited love

For none can halt the flow of years

That rolls from ports above

Beneath the snow the violet sleeps

At dawn the sun will smile

And melt the coat that winter weeps

Upon springs emerald isle

© Janet Martin

Winter made a desperate attempt to return last night,

Only to melt away in the morning sun

Gathered Wealth

Gather your treasure

Do not wait till the morrow

To tally the measure

Of laughter and sorrow

Gather your treasure

Not in dollars and cents

But in the grand pleasure

Of simple events

Toss to the breezes

Your gathered despair

The darling wind teases

The soft morning air

 Gather your treasure
For time's temporal  strand
Dissolves in a moment
Like waves on the sand

Then gather the treasure

Of sapphire and gold

The sun on the water

The sea in its hold

The gaze of a loved one

The sparkle of joy

Dancing in freedom

Of wee girls and boys

Gather your treasure

Not in earthen parts

But kept in the measure

Of love’s thankful heart

© Janet Martin

When All that is Missing is Your Body Next to Mine...

As empty as a faithless prayer

Is midnight’s dark and naked air

Sheer will alone cannot replace

The haunting void of emptiness

Ephemeral want restricts clear thought

When all I know is what is not

But still I feel your absence near

Quiet observer of my tear

To drift upon a hapless wave

Is to lie early in death’s grave

The body is a transient shell

Where longing and fulfillment dwell

And whether you are far or near

It does not really matter, dear

For I hold love’s most sacred part

Within the sanctum of my heart

© Janet Martin

Written for IGWRT prompt: Bodies...

Shaping Heritage...

Dear Mother and Daddy

We hold in our grip

More than the turning of page

But in every moment

As softly they slip

We shape our child’s heritage

Dear Mother and Daddy

What do they observe

As they adapt our attitude?

Do they learn to trust beyond

Life’s startling curve

And know that God is good?

Dear Mother and Daddy

We cannot change

The sorrows that lay in the earth

But for our children

We can begin

A heritage of invaluable worth

Dear Mother and Daddy

Show them the stars

Point to the unfolding bloom

For as you do

You will stir in their hearts

The wonder of God’s living-room

Dear Mother and Daddy

One day at a time

Is given to learn and to teach

As God leads the way

He will teach us to climb

And attain what seems out of reach

© Janet Martin

Awhile ago I posted a poem with a footnote telling of how I opened my mouth to show them the moon…

And then shut it, thinking the kids didn’t really care how big and beautiful it was…a few comments reminded me to tell them anyway, because it will teach them to see, even if they don’t seem mightily impressed at the time. Someday they will remember, and understand.

Teach them to see God in life’s ordinary miracles!

p.s. is ordinary miracles an oxy-moron? 

I thanked God... as they boarded the bus, for the gift of watching this miracle....every school morning I have been given the health and ability for 15 years to watch and wave...

I was stirred anew when I read this: at Lilacs and Lavender just now...realizing how crucial, quick and precious those pre-school years are...

I borrowed this quote from Megan as well...

"It often happens to children

and sometimes to gardeners

that they are given gifts of value

of which they do not perceive

until much later."

~ Wayne Winterrowd ~

 

Phantom Dancer

Of all galactic establishments

You chose earth

On which to place your feet and dance

Its stricken girth

I stayed up to watch for you

But never saw you pass

And yet, you left a silver shoe

On every blade of grass

Janet

Gift of Infinite Compassion

Armed with the valor of new hope

Dawn sweeps the stringent sky

Outlining limb and darkened slope

‘gainst heaven’s waking eye

It spreads in victory certain

Up to the vaulted blue

And rends the heavy curtain

And bids the night adieu

As surely as God’s keeping

As surely as His word

As sure as every season

The pulse of life is stirred

To wake above, new morning

To nudge beneath, the seeds

As spring-time’s grand adorning

Its awesome Maker heeds

Armed with the surety of God’s care

We view this virgin day

Breaking across the atmosphere

In dawn’s perfect array

As we, earth’s vilest creature

Touch Mercy’s unmarred face

Trusting fair nature's Teacher

And God’s amazing grace

© Janet Martin

It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. Lam. 3: 22-23

Perfect Timing...

Come to me

Not when the night has sealed its lips

But when the day laughs

In the mouth of the lilting sky

Then my fingertips will not ache so

To hold you

As I pluck the bloom from its stem

And brush the lock

From out of your eager

Memory…

Janet~

Ineptness of Ink

What is this raw and raging thirst?

This graven enemy

That sets itself against my words

And makes a fool of me

What is this savage, silent plea

That rages ‘neath my skin

And claims the very heart of me

In torment deep within

What is this strange and soulful dirge

That mourns the quickened dark

Tracing the tide where echoes surge

Yet never leave a mark

What is this lonesome melody

That whispers in my quill

It is the frozen agony

Ink teardrops cannot spill

J~

The River...

Image Source: panoramio.com

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhN7SG-H-3k

There is a river flowing

Not through earth’s pasture-land

Where buttercups are blowing

And shores are made of sand

There is a river gleaming

Not with slow, silver tide

Where now we lie a-dreaming

Against our lover’s side

There is a river running

No isle of barefoot bliss

Where summer-hearts are sunning

And old hearts reminisce

There is a river winding

Not through the tumbled grass

Nor ‘gainst the earthen binding

That holds its waters fast

There is a river roaring

Into a boundless sea

Its rushing waters pouring

Into eternity

There is a river passing

Twixt earth and Heaven's shore

Our final, farewell crossing

Into…forevermore

© Janet Martin

On Acceptance...

We may fight with denial

Life’s immutable facts

And suffer them bitterly

Or we can stand tall

Admit and accept

Life’s imperfect things that must be

We cannot escape

What God allows

And if we fight stubbornly

We cannot improve

The here and now

By what we refuse to see

Acceptance of weakness

Is not an excuse

For mindless apathy

But it is the first step

We must choose

To find hope’s possibility

© Janet Martin

Are you brave enough to say it?

Those first words toward making our worst our best…

To say ‘I accept the fact that…

I am sick…

I am addicted to….

I am an alcoholic…

I am not in love with my spouse…

I am angry because…

I am jealous…

I am greedy…

I am afraid…

I am depressed…

God, I am weak…help me

Dearest Memory

A table is just a table

A humble plank of wood

When it has been cleared of dishes

And every crumb of food

But oh, if you could borrow

My mind’s eye for a while

To play back what I’m viewing

I know that you would smile

Is there a memory dearer

Or a song with sweeter sound

Than a table set for dinner

With a family gathered 'round?

© Janet Martin

This was pre-lunch, before the dessert did a landslide;)) and I forgot to take anymore pictures
because we were having a good time;(