My Columbian Love

I cannot resist you

As I embrace your warmth

Craving your brawny essence

Darling, there is none like you

Weak imitations make me laugh

As I inhale your richness

Knowing your bliss

Will not disappoint me

My lips seek your fullness

Slowly, purposefully

I draw you in and hold

Your perfection on my tongue

Before your robust passion

 Satisfies me
Completely

Ah Maxwell, you and I

Make beautiful music together

J~

Every so often I gain a new appreciation for the blessing of

COFFEE!

Poetic Bloomings Prompt: Burning Passion

God is Good

Creation groans, the world is fraught

With turmoil, hate and grief

It longs for peace, but there is naught

As doubt spawns unbelief

But still, one truth steadfastly reigns

Though oft misunderstood

In spite of evil’s corrupt gains

God is good

Since Adam’s fall mankind must toil

And till the cursed dust

Sorrow’s fruit leaps from the soil

Stained with our sin and lust

Yet, over mortal’s hopeless pall

We see a cross of wood

Where Living Hope declares to all

God is good

Though hatred wields its fearful sword

Feigning death’s victory

Though many curse creation’s Lord

Denying Deity

Above, beneath, without, within

The power of His blood

Flows ceaselessly for our sin

God is good

© Janet Martin

It Is No Secret-Jim Reeves

 

Impossible Undoing

If there was an undoing of certain things

I would gently loosen time’s tempered strings

And trace the scars that it has left

As I lay my head upon your chest

Then as past and present blend

Once more, you would be my friend

Moonlight seeps through the shutter-crack

A golden ladder on your back

Midnight is master of its craft

It strikes a current in the draft

And moans a haunting, sad refrain

Of things that will not pass again

A moment has no time to spare

It dangles briefly on the air

Before it slips into the past

Its latch secure and iron cast

The racket of our turmoil swept

Into the vaults where it is kept

It there was an undoing of certain things

My trembling fingers would loosen its strings

Slipping love’s sorrow from your chest

And we would leave its cloak to rest

While hours strike, one, two, three, four

Upon a sweet, forgotten shore

J~

The Sunday Whirl

Budding Expectation

Adrenaline rush

A mental hush

A pulsing intimacy

Eyes closed

Juxtaposed

Against vivid imagery

Beneath my skin

Somewhere within

A budding mystery

A whispered kiss

Expectant bliss

The bud of poetry

© Janet Martin

Enjoy the Ride

Like a thought or a moment

Slipping skyward

While daylight dissolves

On dusk’s tongue

Is the carefree hour

Of youth

On the stage of middle-age

We sense

A merciless turning of page

And keen, echoing

Declarations

Of truth

We cannot stem the flow

Of thought or moments

They come, they go

And all we can do, as we're caught in its tide

Is hang on for dear life

And enjoy the ride

© Janet Martin

 We had a family reunion today...LOTS of ages present to celebrate my oldest sister's B-day...and it struck me as I looked at all the teenagers how BRIEF their 'forever young' years are(and there is no way they can know it)! Seriously, at that age we are all going to be young for a LONG time;))

Some Dads...

Some dads are really, really cool, and some are really smart,
Some dads barely went to school but still have big soft hearts,
Some dads stand up straight and tall and look all sober-like
As if they’ve never thrown a ball or raced on their old bike,
Some dads like to tease and wink and some dads laugh a lot,
I guess, I suppose, it depends, I think, on how many bills they’ve got,
‘Cause dad says, as long as the bills keep a-comin’,
He’ll have to get up an’ keep on a-workin’,
And God bless the dad that keeps on a-hummin’
Even when the bills keep a-comin’

Some dads make lots of money and some, I’ve heard, are broke,
Some say things like sweetheart and honey and some dads never joke,
Some dads work from dawn ‘til dark with little time to play,
Some take their children to the park and some just go away,
Some dads work so very hard so mother can stay home,
Some dads are so very tired, when at last they come,
But, God bless the dad, who at the end of his day
Still gets down on his knees to pray,
And God bless the faithful dad who
Teaches his little ones to pray too

Some dads are really big and tough, while some are short and thin,
Some dads are kinda’ rough and some are gentlemen,
Some dad’s hair is curly and some dad’s hair is gray,
Some don’t really worry ‘cause their hair has gone away,
Some dads drive pick-ups shiny and new, some say any wheels will do,
As long as it takes me to work and such, and the insurance on it isn’t too much,
Some dads whistle and some dads sing,
At home some dads feel as rich as a king,
But for one thing I sure am glad,
God knew how much we’d need some dads

Some dads read God’s word every night, some never read at all,
Some dads teach us wrong from right to guide us lest we fall,
And some dads are a little like God, I suppose,
‘Cause through trial and error this dad knows
Though hearts be broken and sometimes need mending,
A father’s love is never-ending,
And God bless the dad whose love never fails,
When the going gets bad, love still prevails,
Thus, for one thing I sure am glad, God knew how much we’d need some dads,
Some dads’ sure leave big shoes to fill but the One who guides them will be there still,
Someday, when someone says they’re glad God knew how much we’d need some dads

Janet Martin

I wrote this a few years ago for Father's Day

On Second Miles

Second miles may cause us to groan

For they tug us from our comfort zone

It is in the second miles we trod

That we touch the hand of God

Second miles are not traveled by obligation, force or fear

But they are the miles that prove

Our testimony, loud and clear

Of love

Love is patient, love is kind

It does not seek its own

And oft its dark and second mile

Is seen by God alone

Second miles in life

Do not further our own causes

But if, in faith we walk them

Their beauty may surprise us

Second miles are not reserved

For either the gifted or the common

But they draw out of mortal crowds

The very best of them

Lift up your chin, take heart and smile

Love begins in the second mile

Walk with the one who needs a hand

Alone we fall, together we stand

Jesus, how thankful I am

You walked that mile for me

And oh, its blood-stains led me to

A place called Calvary

If we would follow Him

In authenticity

Then we will walk those second miles

For His sake, willingly

What blessing we forfeit

What joy we discard

If second miles we forsake

Because they are too hard

Take heart, oh traveler of the second mile

It will all be over in life’s little while

Then oh, how sweet our rest will be

At Jesus feet for eternity

© Janet Martin

 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.  If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.  Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

Matt. 5:38-42

Oh Still the Hastening Bloom

Oh, still the hastening bloom

That crowns the summer’s day

I must hold its tender fold

Before it fades away

Oh, still the ticking clock

That peals the quickened hour

I must pause a bit because

I need to smell the flower

Oh, still the sassy breeze

That steals its fragrant leaf

And tucks to earth arboreal birth

With not one tear of grief

Oh, still the hastening bloom

Too soon its petals weep

For they as I, bud, bloom, then die

Restored to Heaven’s keep

© Janet Martin

Inside a birthday card I received she wrote ‘Bloom where you’re planted’.

On my run yesterday morning I was struck by the beauty in the wildflowers simply ‘blooming where they are planted’.