Rest Well, my Love

Image Source: relaxedpolitics.com

 

Rest well, my love

All those dreams we’re dreaming of

And all those fears we fear

All the hopes we’re hoping for

Will simply wait, my dear

…or, while you rest perhaps our dreams

Will unfold like a flower

Our harbored fear might disappear

As Hope affirms its Power

© Janet Martin

Poetic Bloomings Prompt; 'get some rest' was too timely to ignore...hubby is in hospital recovering from ruptured appendix!

Would I?

Would I?

If Christ turned and looked at me

From cries of hatred’s violent clan

Would I stand beside Him or cry fearfully

‘I never knew this man’?

Could I?

If they all stood with arms up-raised

And rocks within their grasp

To stone me; would I declare God’s praise

And to His love hold fast?

Will I?

Will I, in spite of enemies

My Savior’s love defend

And live life’s moments faithfully

For Him until its end?

© Janet Martin

The Fellowship of Silences

The Music in It Prompt: Silence

To commune with silence

is blissful fellowship

in proper balance

But oh, the oceans

that surge and slip

as we dance

Silence teams

with wanton whispers

The sky is full

Memories and dreams

of which I am not master

Push and pull

Silences cannot be stilled

by stopping of ears

or closing of door

Who knew that silence could be filled

with the sound of tears

pelting a phantom shore?

Silence is a painter

A Maestro of thought

composing master-piece art

on canvases broader

than heavens above

but sealed in the heart

J~

In Spite of Rough Drafts

When dreams and intent scrawl a rough draft

Upon the tablet of our thought

As we ponder the impending day

We know nothing but this…

The unknown and unexpected are a testing craft

Instructed in moments tenderly wrought

Be He Whom we would be wise to trust in and pray

© Janet Martin

 “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” Corrie Ten Boom

The Heart's Expression

The heart’s expression

Is most often uttered

Not by fluently ordered script

But by the shimmer

Of love and sorrow

In a tear that tenderly slipped

© J~

Of Things Phantom...

Tomorrow, tomorrow

Oh, tomorrow

You say

But darling, all I ever get

Is today

I’ve reached into midnight

But it is no use

Tomorrow is merely

A phantom excuse

For as surely as I lunge

At the hem of its frock

It is mist on my tongue

At twelve o’clock

And all that is left

Of its vapor hooray

Is the brand new repeat

Of another today

J~

Inspired by the title Tomorrow the Green Grass

On the prompt at IGWRT

Blue...

To write away sorrow

And missing you

Are more than a pen

Is able to do

To smooth from my mind

Your eyes and your lips

Are tasks far too heavy

For mere fingertips

What, oh what is a girl to do

When all she is can think about

Is blue?

To drain from my longing

The sound of your laugh

Is like pouring the ocean

Into a glass

The spirit is willing

The flesh is weak

I cradle your memory

Against my cheek

What, oh what is a girl to do

When all she is able to be

Is blue?

Moments compile

Like they don’t even care

That history expands

Twixt my ‘here’ and your ‘there’

To dance with a memory

Is bittersweet bliss

But it isn't the same

Without your kiss

Blue, blue, blue,

What, oh what is a girl to do

When all she is able to touch

Is blue?

© Janet Martin

Heart-thief

It is not a swift wrenching from my grasp

Or my chest

As you steal my heart

No.

It is a patient sort of tender anguish

Probing,

Pondering

Sweet and slow,

It is rendered in sudden

Intake of breath

A smile

A tear

A sigh

It trembles beneath me

Deep in the earth

As I look into your eyes

For I know full well

That parting lurks

Somewhere, in quiet wait

I hear it in the creaking

Of the rusty garden gate

And how your step

Falls heavier

Than when you were a lad

It makes me fully happy

And oh,

So fully sad

To know that you are stealing

With my blessing

Part by part

The deep

Innermost lining

Of your

Mother’s

Heart

© Janet Martin 

We attended our son's grade Eight graduation ceremony today.

What a great bunch of kids. 

What a beautiful age...