Vision of the Past

Site for picture:http://www.jimfogarty.co.uk/Odd%20Bits%20Page.htm
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I cannot return to who I was
And even if I could
It wouldn’t be the same
The willow tree with the old rope swing
Is nothing but a lucent limb
Its sigh a page in my memory
A tear in Time’s rushing stream
With the laughter of neighborhood children
Gathered to recline and dream
And the hours, carefree and golden
Slipping heedlessly through Augusts’ glass...
...but now where the proud willow tree once sprawled
There is nothing but wind-blown grass
Where, across its grave the younglings dash
Unaware of its hallowed space
Or the roots beneath decaying to soil
While years mark a woman’s face
Yet still, crystal clear in her mind is a world
And the sound of a young girls cry
‘oh, how I do love to go up in a swing,
Up to the clear, blue sky’

I cannot return to who I was
It wouldn’t be the same, you see
Yet, I am who I am because of who I was
On my way to who I’m going to be…

Janet~

A Child's Lesson in Patience

You can water the flowers
To make them grow
There is nothing to do
But wait; for snow

To catch a fish
You dip a hook in the pond
For snow you wish
Into the blue beyond

Patience, my child
For soon you will say
I wish the snow
Would melt away…

Janet

There is very little snow on the ground, much to the frustration of many children waiting with toboggans, sleds, skis, snow-boards, skates…

As soon as we get a substantial snowfall it is followed by rain.

The use of out-door rinks is finally beginning!

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