Not a Movie

I won’t cry
What good would it do?
Life is not a movie
I know it’s true
But I like happy endings
When the story is through
And all I can say for now is….
‘Take two’

I won’t cry
It’s not over yet
We’re somewhere in the middle
Of joy and regret
And nobody knows
Where the next scene will be
As I hear the Director saying
‘Take three’

I won’t cry
For what good are tears?
They cannot change one picture
Or bring back the years
We hoped would last forever
Now it cuts me to the core
As I hear a Voice saying,
‘Take four’

I won’t cry
We are not at The End
This is not good-by
Time is not foe or friend
I could use a scene
With a quiet country drive
And you next to me…
‘Take five’

Janet Martin

Pieces

Little pieces of you touch me
Soft whispers laughing in my ear
Geography tells me you’re gone
But you’re still near

I touch you in a thousand moments
It’s the way of love, I guess
A soothing, aching torment
Or a somnolent caress

Little pieces of you touch me
For no matter what I do
You are here in tender fragments
Those little pieces of you….

Janet Martin

When our friends moved they blessed us with boxes full of
Pieces of their life…
I was cleaning the stove and realized how often I think of them/ pray
Because of the little pieces they’ve left for us to touch.
Who knew a bottle of house-hold cleaner would be a prayer-reminder!
Collin, when you said ‘just take it’ you didn’t realize how often these gifts would remind me to pray! Jane, the food, the make-up, the bath products etc… your popcorn bowl!!
are little pieces of you!
Hope all is well.

The Wind

Like the sound of wind
Pushing through the woods
Memories rush my mind
Their fingers probe
The deepest crater
In my heart
Drawing us together
Pulling us apart

Like the stirring of a breeze
In the hour before dawn
It feathers the trees
And ripples the lawn
Gentle fingers
Brushing my sigh
As the thought of you lingers
In a tear in my eye

Like the force of a hurricane
Or the roar of the sea
Like warm gentle rain
Crooning a soft melody
Like the rising and falling
Of the night-wind in the trees
Is the bittersweet calling
Of memories



Janet Martin

Today

If all that were left was regret and longing
I could let go, I guess
For there is nothing warm or comforting
In misery’s caress

I am so glad we are creatures of choosing
Not shackled by law or demand
So I choose to love… there is no refusing
For my heart does not heed to command

Life is a patchwork of seasons and sorrow
Time flows of its own free will
Darling, no one is promised tomorrow
But today I will love you until…

…until all the stars fall out of the heavens
And all of the oceans run dry
Darling, today is all we are given
And its made for you and I

J~

Left-over

I pause; it filters through me
A sighing, low refrain
I let it warm and soothe me
The music of the rain
Filling the room around me
Like the breath of pending light
Without the weary cluttering
Of things to mar its flight

A calm and sweeping rhythm
This soulful melody
Quiets within its stirring
The ache inside of me
As longing turns soft pages
With a wise and tender glove
Crossing its final stages
Until all that’s left is…love

Janet Martin

Only

Only spring erases winter
Only love erases hate
Only time erases sorrow
Only night erases day
And only Jesus, only Jesus
Can wash the guilt of sin away

Janet Martin

The Truth About Lies

A tear may dim my down-cast eye
A sigh may whisper from my lips
A memory may flicker by
An echo from the shadow slips
Suddenly, but not for thee

I made a promise yesterday
And ne’er a flippant oath I take
But carefully each word I say
Lest I should wish my vow to break
Regretfully, but not for thee

And now I lay me down to sleep
Where I shall dream so peacefully
While all the solemn willows weep
And all their tears fall silently
With mine; but not for thee

Janet~

In Shades of Melancholy

As dusk-reddened spires fall into the sky-line
As silhouettes darken and vanish away
As deeper blue claims the purple horizon
Drawing a curtain o’er the remnant of day
I feel you in whispers of gray

The quiet bears the rush of a starless pavilion
It seems I can touch the rain-thickened breeze
And you; lingering just beyond my vision
Beneath the arc of gold willow trees
And a graveyard of memories

The night lays upon the air, heavy and moody
The air lays around me; motionless, blue
Wrapping me in its somnolent beauty
Holding me closer on its shoulder of dew
As a clock in the distance strikes two

Janet~