Be Aware...the Sunday Whirl on Wednesday

Beware; lest we no longer see

The wealth that spills from filaments

Not made with hands; the sea, the lands

The air and its rare firmaments

God does not charge the world at large

For every gift that he imbues

Of rain-drop pearl, and ice-art swirl

Of linen-cloud strewn avenues

But He requires that we desire

To care for His created things

For to disdain earth’s glorious plain

Is to disdain His offerings

And if within our bone-cell-skin

We do not sense this divine grace

Then, when He knocks, will the cold rocks

Call out to His tender embrace?

The sticky mess of selfishness

Confuses and deceives because

We do not see with clarity

The sacred charge He gave to us

© Janet Martin

I found the word 'sticky' to be a bit of a stickler:)

 

Colombian Comrade

It's Alive! Poetic Bloomings weekly prompt

Glance around you and pick something that is lifeless (husbands DON’T count) and personify it. Breathe life into it and make it the hero of your poem this week!

Can there be too much of you, darling?

I suppose only time can tell

You’ve been with me for a long time, dear

And oh, you know me well

Full-bodied, faithful companion

You never disappoint

Rousing easily life’s passion in me

My slumb’ring senses you anoint

Ravishing Colombian lover

Bold, brawny fruit of desire

Rushing through me like an ebony sea

Keening a beautiful fire

While all of life’s vexing indictments

Its pestering perplexities

Dissolve in your glow like the sun-drenched snow

And other minorities

Can there be too much of you, darling?

Life would be cold without you

So I’ll take my chances for your kiss enhances

Everything else I must do

Darling, you know how to please me

Your pleasure I cannot decline

Good morning kiss of Colombian bliss

Coffee, dearest coffee of mine

© Janet Martin

The Tyburn

Poetic Bloomings invites us to attempt the Tyburn form.

The TYBURN is a six line poem consisting of 2, 2, 2, 2, 9, 9 syllables.
The first four lines rhyme and are all descriptive words. The last two lines rhyme and incorporate the first, second, third, and fourth lines as the 5th through 8th syllables.
More instruction: http://www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Tyburn-Poem

 

Very

Merry

Cherry

Sherry

A very merry day, don’t you think?

Warmed by a third cherry, sherry drink

***

Rushing

Gushing

Blushing

Hushing

Life’s moments; a rushing, gushing stream

Its mem’ries a blushing, hushing gleam 

Janet~

A challenging form. Yes, the first one 'twists' the rules a little:)

Wonder-drenched...

 

The dawn is drenched in grace un-quenched

As oceans of His mercy swell

From eons of immortal love

In shades that tongue can never tell

Now we lift up our fragile cup

Oh, what is man that God should fill

Our wayward wants while heaven flaunts

But whispers of His wondrous will?

Though sorrow-streams and broken dreams

Have laid their grief upon our brow

And though we strain beneath life’s pain

Humbly beneath His touch we bow

For this is He who died for me

That rends the dark with molten sun

We cannot know His thought, and so

We whisper, not my will be done

The dawn is drenched in hope unclenched

God is not dead, not does he sleep

Unfathomed vaults His Hand exalts

As morning spills across its deep

© Janet Martin

‘Mom, your boots are squeaking’, laughs Victoria, as we watch His wonder unfold in 22 below temps.

Now an hour later...

Towards the Unveiling...

 

Image source: deesbbboutique.blogspot.com

Life’s fortune of transient bestowal

Is fragile; joy and grief align

In a never-ceasing turmoil

Oft bereft of clear design

The dividend of trial and trouble

Shrouded in a tear-spun veil

Spurs us on to Hope Eternal

And a Love that will not fail

Who but One can see tomorrow?

Who but One can know the why?

As life’s tears of joy and sorrow

Shape our journey to the sky

Grace sufficient; glorious promise

While we groan beneath the weight

Of love’s cross; pilgrims and soldiers

Bound for heaven’s gleaming gate

…so we hope, not in the offerings

Of this world; no, our sight

Is fixed beyond earth’s meager off-spring

And this battle we must fight

Where someday love’s greatest mystery

Will its grand reason unveil

In the arms of precious Jesus

And His love that did not fail

© Janet Martin

The friends who I have requested prayer for previously need them now like never before. Pray for their safety, for wisdom and trust…

The Wonderment of You, My Love

The wonderment of you, my love

Evokes a glimmer in my eye

And in the dead of winter-dread

I hear a love-song drifting by

Where melody of green-leaf tree

Seduces me as dreams implore

While imminence of bitter winds

Threaten bold outside my door

The wonderment of you, my love

While show-men brag and weak men boast

This flesh-blood veil conceals a grail

Cupping the vaunt that matter most

Intangible, its ecstasy

Indelible its hard-fought gain

Alloy of love’s great mystery

We do not flaunt its sacred pain

The wonderment of you, my love

Though blood of pen may seek to spell

Its fantasy in poetry

It cannot its full fortune tell

For how can word shape oceans stirred

Or speak of things too rare for script

Where rushing tides cannot be heard

Beneath the brush of finger-tips

The wonderment of you, my love

In declarations barely breathed

From depths beneath to heights above

Its utterances are bequeathed

In soft-sigh kiss, in whispered bliss

And in the trembling touch of thought

The wonderment of you, my love

Perfects the void of what is not

 

Janet~

Wonderment

Image Source: http://healthierchoices4u.blogspot.ca/2012/08/kids-and-milk.html

Oh, for a little while

You nurture us,

Dear darling child

With pure lips and dimpled smile

With innocence

In blue-sky eyes

And wonderment

In each new day

Exuberant,

Your wee milk-cup

Holds the world

While we drink up

The wonderment

Of untainted joy

In milk-mustache grins

From girl and boy

Before they fly away

© Janet Martin

 

This New Day...

When nighttime’s clutch yields to the touch

Of soft chartreuse and silver-gray

When ebony tranquility

Unveils the shades of a new day

When morning spills across the hills

We grasp the tools of our trade

As we rejoice with grateful voice

In this new day the Lord has made

When onyx space brims with new grace

And darkness-drenched horizons gleam

As morning light dispels the night

Beneath hope’s benevolent beam

When errors of our tainted love

Into history’s crypt are laid

We raise our voice, praise and rejoice

In this new day the Lord has made

© Janet Martin