Crackers...

The big, black night is a hole in the wall

Through which every day gently slips

I tried, but I guess I am too small

So I lay me down to sleep

The big, black night is a pillow for all

But somehow when I lay down my head

It is not slumber, but whispers that fall

In the colors of love’s tangled thread

The big black night is a shoulder dark, broad

The world leans against it in rest

While you lean against every beat of my heart

Leaving nothing, but a void in my chest

The big black night tugs its hem to the ground

The earth is a grand, king-size bed

I’ve never slept in a bed that is round

Do you prefer crackers…or bread?

J~

H-m-m-m-! I think I'll have a saltine for my bed-time snack.

G'night~

A Poem...

Write me a poem
Write to me of summer
Ocean beaches
Coming home
And write to me of
Soft warm lips
To greet me at the door
Where cold and troubled waters slip
To far and distant shores
Write me a poem
Of whispers and desire
As winter and its storm
Are overcome by the fire
In our eyes
In our touch
In finger-tips
As they meet
While poorly made bargains
Melt like slush in the street…

J~

The Invisible Everything...

It is nothing I can hold
Yet it is everything I hold
It is love~

J~

Lord, Make Me Greedy...

Lord make me greedy…
for the hugs and kisses
and words and prayers
of my family
Lord, make me greedy
for their thoughts and their touch
and never ever say I’ve had enough
Lord, make me greedy in my desire
To give more than I need
Lest my need turn self-indulgent
and be nothing more than...greed

Janet

This I Know...

I do not know
How it is that each rose unfolds
In pure and flawless splendor
Or how an infinity of planets
Exists beyond our visage
A glorious mystery, uncharted
I do not know
How it is that you are far from me
Yet ache in every heartbeat
Or how waters flow unceasingly
Yet its source is not depleted
I do not know what brings the robin
To its nest in the same tree
Or how a world beneath the ocean
Can exist in untainted beauty
I do not know
How many days remain to tread this sod
Or who will be the first to go
But one thing I do know…
I know whom I have believed
And am persuaded that he is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day. (2 Tim. 1:12)
I know He is the One True God

Janet~

Undying Need

Lord, give me a need undying
And never let me stray
Nor lean on my understanding
But to need You every day

Lord give me eyes to see You
Within each little flower
To know the Hand that formed its cup
Holds me through every hour

Lord, give me ears to hear you
As nature throbs Your dues
For if You hear a sparrow’s song
Then you will hear mine too

Lord, give me faith to need You
When everything is fine
And never take a single step
Without Your hand on mine

Lord, give me an undying need
To need you every day
Lest in my folly I should lead
And sadly go astray

Janet Martin

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want…Ps. 23

If We Were Sleeping...

They are all asleep
The wise men of market-places
And money-changers
But the night is deep
Filled with mystic faces
And friendly strangers…

…and the cloud on the horizon
Is the softest purple-gray
If I would lay here sleeping
It would simply drift away
Without the admiration
And the whisper of a sigh
Or the memory of a moment
When, against the silky sky
We walked all night long together
You were there and I was here
And if we had just been sleeping
I would not fight back the tear
That glistens in the midnight
Like a star within my eye
While above, on heavens table
Gleams the moon, a silver pie
And the mere handful of minutes
Which expand to full blown hours
Are like daisies in my pocket
When the sky is filled with showers
So I cannot be a wise man
Sound asleep at half-past nine
For the night is far too glorious
And you, my dear, are fine
With the moonlight ‘gainst your olive skin
Your lips against my ear
Oh, it seems that once again
The night is far too short, I fear…

...they are all asleep
the wise men of fortune
or its fantasy
But the night is too deep
and I feel you breathing
somewhere inside of me...

Janet~

The Poet's Child

The poet’s child
has no choice
but is exposed
to the poet’s voice

The poet’s child
is quickly taught
that free and wild
is a poet’s thought

The poet’s child
must oft endure
upon life’s ride
a quick detour…

…because of something
Poet saw
and needed to
inhale its awe

The poet’s child
of lilt and rhyme
knows anytime
is writing time

The poet’s child
soon learns, the Muse
must surely be
paid her full dues

The poet’s child
whether boy or girl
is surely the dearest
(and most patient)
in the world

Janet~