Thursday, April 5, 2012

Easter/Hope Sonnet




Come; lay your sin-stained burden at His feet
Oh, do not try to carry it alone
He bids us come to heaven’s mercy-seat
Forgiveness pours in oceans from His throne
The way of man is doomed to fear and need
The vile deceiver taunts with poisoned fruit
Brushing his vulgar lies against our greed
Desiring to draw us from Saving Truth
But hark, what rings across earth’s weary field?
“Come;” it is by His stripes that we are healed

When will this endless war and fighting cease?
When will we lay down hate and embrace love?
Oh, look upon love's glorious Prince of Peace
Did He not leave His holy throne above?
To suffer in the place of wretched men
And give His life for all humanity
A ransom for our awful debt of sin
He died; a perfect Lamb, to set us free
How long will we resist Hope's grand appeal?
Come; it is by His stripes that we are healed

The wages of our sinful lust is death
The gift of God is everlasting life
He sealed redemption's plan with His last breath
As ‘it is finished’ lifts us from this strife
Dare we to scoff at such a work as this?
Or break his heart and turn away our eyes?
Dare we to face Him then without His gift
And thus reject eternal paradise?
The day of grace is now; oh will we yield?
Come; it is by His stripes that we are healed

© Janet Martin

Inspired as I listened to Alas, and did My Savior bleed (link in previous post)


3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
   a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
   he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
 4 Surely he took up our pain
   and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
   stricken by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
   he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
   and by his wounds we are healed.  Isa. 53:3-5

For the wages of sin is death,
but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 6:23


I Don't Understand...

As I look upon
His nail-scarred hands
and thorny crown…

…and as I think how He
put on flesh
so we may obtain
His righteousness…

…or how the perfect
Lamb of God
Left heaven
For this sin-cursed sod…

…or how, when He knelt
In Gethsemane
His thoughts were for
Humanity…

…and how, as He hung
Upon that tree
His cries were still
For you and me…

…or as the spear
Thrust deep, His side
It was still for us
He cried…

…or how, by
Jesus' dying breath
We receive life
Through His death…

No, I don’t understand
Why I receive...
...but this I know
I believe

© Janet Martin

 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith
—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 
 not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9


For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, 
that whoever believes in him shall not perish 
but have eternal life. 
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, 
but to save the world through him.
John 3 :16-17

Cause and Effect...


Dear God,
Our hatred causes us to do the unthinkable
But oh, God
Your love causes us to believe the impossible!

Janet Martin

God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, 
so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
2 Cor. 5:21

No 'Free' in Freedom...repost



Somberly, up the quiet tree-lined street
The steady stream of solemn ranks are led,
As sun-beams dance to the drummer’s beat
Filtering through the branches overhead
Beyond the tears and past the trees
The music of a small child’s laughter swells
Stark contrast to the infantry
Bowing ‘neath the tolling of the bells

Then, as the bag-pipe sound exalts
The melody of sweet Amazing Grace
The banner-covered coffin halts
For it has reached its final resting place
The last note fades, the cannon flies
Echoing across a distant shore
But none as stirring as the mother’s cries
“There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Put down your banners, lay down your guns
My sweet baby boy has died
Tributes, salutes, many battles won
Won’t bring him back” she cried
“Take away all the roses for nothing will be
Like it ever was before
The price of freedom is too hard for me
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

Freedom (part two)

Up the rocky skull-strewn trail
A teaming, screaming throng of hatred surged
Swarming ‘round a form so pale
Upon a place called Calvary they converged
Beyond the tumult, wild and raging
Not a solitary friend is found
Stark contrast to the shouts and praising
As the palm-tree branches decked the ground

Then as the sound of steel on steel
Rings beyond the horror on the hill
As they drive in each cruel nail
‘Gainst the cries of ‘Father, not My will’
And as they raise the blood-stained cross
In victory the maddened thousands roar
As Mary weeps her deepest loss
“There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore

Take away your hammers, lay down your swords
My dear precious son has died”
As the lightning flashed and the thunder roared
There at His feet she cried
“Take away all your hatred, your jeers and chanting
For you have slain my Lord
Take away all your weapons, your raging and ranting
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom anymore”

There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, oh what a price
So that we may be set free
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, love's sacrifice
Is beyond understanding for me
There’s no ‘free’ in freedom, let us value each day
And cherish each living breath
Oh, what a price someone needs to pay
For the cost of freedom is death



Before My Time



I've heard tell
Before my time
Poets revered 
Rhythm and rhyme

Janet~

Poetics Aside Prompt: before our time...
I just couldn't resist this;)

Before Micro-mentality




Before micro-waves, dishwashers
Riding mowers, computers, cell-phones

Before instant potatoes, rice, oatmeal or pizza
Before instant anything

Before gyms to de-stress
Or talk of fitness
 
Before X-box, i-pod, Nintendo
You-tube, game-boy and  500 TV channels

There were twenty-four hour days
Of hard-work…and play

…and front-porches in the evening
With families on them

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside Prompt:  write a poem about something before your time.


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~