Moment Awareness...

We cannot change yesterday

Or tomorrow

But oh, what opportunity

We hold in our clasp

Lord, teach us how

To use to its fullest

This day of moments

Ere it slips from our grasp

© Janet Martin

Complete Awareness

Embrace it,

Do not waste it

While you strain toward a dream

Or yearn for yester’s

Mercy-measure

Drifting down departed stream

Little good

Is what we’re holding

If we miss its

Priceless worth

As we gaze toward the heavens

For what must be found on earth

© Janet Martin

Ball-room

This morning the Artist

Has taken His brush

And dappled earth’s canvas

In frosted hush

I awoke early

To a white-washed hall

Where each tree is a princess

Dressed for the ball

And I might be

A princess too

But somewhere I lost

My glass dancing shoes

© Janet Martin

But Never You...

Time has a habit of stealing

Its moments from my grip

Scarcely I touch or feel them

Before silently they slip

And seal or steal their memory

Where Time cannot return

Some I relinquish gladly

For others soft, I yearn…

And some, mercy’s dear kindness

Allows me to forget

Instead of being weighted

Forever with regret

Others, I never ponder

As they slip into the blue

And some are full of wonder

And mystery

And

You…

I may forget ‘most everything

By the time

This life is through

But never,

Oh, my darling

Never

Ever

You…

© Janet Martin

Leave then, November, If You Must

Leave then, leave

If you must

Over a carpet

Of first-snow dust

Over the skyline

To bygones beyond

Over the quiet

Of platinum ponds

Over the slumbering

Wild-bloom in the earth

Over the platoon

Of June’s frozen mirth

Over the farmer

Who smiles as he sleeps

Over the woodland

Where stripped willow weeps

Over the moments

That ceaselessly rush

Over the meadow

Of full moon flush

Leave then, November

Leave if you will

Winter is treading

The sky with its chill

© Janet Martin

A re-vamped version of Over...written for July

Snowfall Seduction

Always your beauty compels me to love you

Soundless, your cadence seduces my will

As hilltop and hollow and hemlock you thrill

From infinite well-springs far, far above you

Always your tumble of gentle persuasion

Draws me toward you in spite of my will

To bolt every shutter and door to your chill

You kiss my window in quiet temptation

And thus I am drawn to your passion so pure

Free-falling diamonds without reservation

I am a child now of foot-loose elation

Heaven unrivaled creates such allure

Always your descent softens my misgiving

Soothing my nurtured premonitions of dread

With carefree abandon you land on my head

Suddenly I am in love, and forgiving

© Janet Martin

Wonderful Wonder

High and holy is the hand

Beneath which mankind bows

Though we may never understand

What perfect love allows

The gate to Eden sealed its bliss

At that first mortal sin

Its curse remains; we bear witness

Of evil’s sorrowing

But love will never be out-done

Though trials come and go

Because of love God sent His Son

To earth so long ago

His high and holy visage wept

To know our hopeless plight

And to the earth He gave His best

On that first Christmas night

And though the evil ages roll

And we cry ‘where is hope?’

His high and holy hands control

Beyond our meager scope

He did not leave us to our guilt

Wallowing helplessly

On Calvary His blood was spilt

For all humanity

And perfect love broke Satan’s curse

We are not doomed for aye

The Master of the universe

Has washed our guilt away

His high and holy hands were pierced

For our iniquity

The Lamb was meek, the Lion fierce

With love that sets us free

On that first Christmas long ago

Christ came from God above

So even now mankind may know

The wonder of His love

© Janet Martin

Come Morning Light

The night is empty

Save for the swoon

Of shadow and silver

Beneath the full moon

I should be dreaming

Tucked warm in my bed

But I choose the high noon

Of midnight instead

Fantasy swirls

Like the steam from my cup

Women become girls

When the moon is up

Infinitely gentle

The hands of the night

And I’ll be a woman

Come morning light

© Janet Martin