Morning Maiden

Click images to enlarge...

She blushes beneath murmured advances

Touching the fingers of time’s out-stretched hand

Over the brink of pink skyline fences

Morning comes rushing like sea over sand

Washing the deep of its sleep-colored skin

Kissing earth’s cheek with a come-get-me grin

Over the north-side with its wooded slope

She melts night’s shadows in cauldrons of hope

Then, growing bolder she climbs the glass tree

And pins up the sun where the moon hung, then she

Splashes hill, fallow and hollows near-far

Dusting the morning with diamonds and stars

 …and did she forget or did she wipe a tear

When time touched lightly his lips to her ear?

Knowing how soon we would yank at her hair

Did she wish for kinder appointments elsewhere?

 (this photo makes a great screen-saver)

© Janet Martin

...sharing a few more shots from yesterday's morning. The first line of this poem I wrote at dawn this morning when she blushed, 

before slipping into a demure gown of gray,

Praise the Name of the Lord

 Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord from the heavens;
    praise him in the heights!
² Praise him, all his angels;
    praise him, all his hosts!

³ Praise him, sun and moon,
    praise him, all you shining stars!
⁴ Praise him, you highest heavens,
    and you waters above the heavens!

⁵ Let them praise the name of the Lord!
    For he commanded and they were created.
⁶ And he established them forever and ever;
    he gave a decree, and it shall not pass away.

⁷ Praise the Lord from the earth,
    you great sea creatures and all deeps,
⁸ fire and hail, snow and mist,
    stormy wind fulfilling his word!

⁹ Mountains and all hills,
    fruit trees and all cedars!
¹⁰ Beasts and all livestock,
    creeping things and flying birds!

¹¹ Kings of the earth and all peoples,
    princes and all rulers of the earth!
¹² Young men and maidens together,
    old men and children!

¹³ Let them praise the name of the Lord,
    for his name alone is exalted;
    his majesty is above earth and heaven.
¹⁴ He has raised up a horn for his people,
    praise for all his saints,
    for the people of Israel who are near to him.
Praise the Lord!

Psalms 148

Pure Perfection or Winter Vacation

I click-click-clicked my way across the countryside on skis this morning(leaving anything with a clock on it at home;)from sunrise to almost noon...oops.I call mornings like this winter-vacation. It was hard to choose ' a few' pics out of over 100 because it was point-and-shoot perfection as God drew apart the gates of heaven and spilled its reflection to earth...

Click on images to enlarge...

On some days earth

Is heaven’s reflection

Each twig and sprig

Pure perfection

Tug the door softly

Soon this will be

From here-on forward

A memory

Somewhere up yonder

A bird on a branch

Flits and rouses

An avalanche

Down in the room

By the white willow tree

Whispers a June-tune

Of what used to be

Don’t wish on sidelines

For what is not

Jump into life’s skin

With all you have got

The poise of hours

The noise of clocks

Sutures with flowers

And showers, time’s locks

Who can afford

To turn a blind eye

As the sun treks

Across the big sky?

Soon bold gold-blue

Of this morning-noon

Will fold into

A cot for the moon

On some days earth

Is heaven’s reflection

Each bend and berth

Pure perfection

© Janet Martin

The Reach of Speech

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H-m-m, so many to choose from...how will we arrange them and what will they say?

It is a privilege to share

This air, a common thoroughfare

Where we lay bare our thought with word

That once released can’t be returned

How fast past lips its passions course

The tongue, a small and mighty force

Is like a potent, pocket- sword

Its flash the quick of uttered word

The reach of speech is long and deep

A corridor we cannot sweep

Where both rage and apology

Can stun a page we cannot see

We should be careful as we touch

The silence with thought’s noisy brush

For words, uncensored and swift-tossed

Carry within their freedom, cost

© Janet Martin

 Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. James 3:5

I'm sure we've all wished we could retrieve words spoken too hastily...

The two-room country-school I attended as a child had this word-test hung above the door;

Before you speak, think;

Is it necessary?

Is it true?

is it kind?

Show of Heart

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I want to be so taken with you

That I cannot look away

When day’s full-color is smothered in blue

Before it becomes yesterday

I want to know I have held soft and slow

The hard heart –hunger of long letting go

I want to trace from your head to your toe

Every last whisper of you

I want to wonder at everyday things

Until I can hardly breathe

Tug at each moment, unfasten its strings

I want to stagger beneath

This fabric so sheer that it slithers and slips

Like a satin river through my fingertips

I want to savor its mist on my lips

And drink from its gossamer springs

I want to be, not footloose, fancy-free

But wholly and holy awed

By love’s laugh-lines; dredge the rush of a sea

Spangled with kisses from God

I want to hunt for the treasure of clocks

Spilling life’s measure in teeny tick-tocks

Pry out the pearls in sun-swirls, rumpled socks

Surf on an ocean of sod

I want to wake with a thirst for Today

To learn what I ought to know

Study time’s glimmer of gold laced with gray

Stunned by its shadow on snow

I want to be a collector of art

Caught in a shimmer of tear, tug-of-heart

Lest God forbid, I ignore life’s best part

And completely miss the show

© Janet Martin

 Life is a show of art, earth its gallery, God, its heart! Don't miss it.