Of Demons and Conquerors

 

When failure unleashes demonic persuasion

Clenching and quenching the song in the heart

When hope is tormented by cold accusation

Dredging the deeps for despair’s cruelest dart

When fumbles long-buried and almost forgotten

In one half-breath memory are keenly exhumed

When stumbles and tumbles of regret-to-wisdom

Startle and threaten to crush grace with gloom

When laughter is snuffed by a pitiless glove

We cling to one Truth; God is love, God is love

When cruelty slaughters while hearts remain beating

When longing rends eons while hope gently yearns

And we bear pain’s witness of moment-tears bleeding

Into secured fathoms where not one returns

Still, in this valley of onyx oppression

Light is not quelled; if we hunger and thirst

There is a Solace within dark depression

Conquering legions of enmity cursed

We turn to His pages; peace descends like a dove

Faithful through the ages; God is love, God is love

When we plead for mustard-seed faith and forgiveness

And turning the other cheek fills our mouths with dust

When daggers of insult repay our kindness

Still there is One in whose Word we can trust

He will not falter; His Truth is enduring

What He has promised no one can abate

Goodness and mercy, like glad light of morning

Cannot be conquered by sin-sabers of hate

Tender refrains stream from portals above

Kissing our tear-stains; God is love, God is love

© Janet Martin

What Lies Beneath...

What lies beneath, not what is seen

Conceives the branch's fruits

Beneath the snow the grass is green

The tree thrives from its roots

What lies beneath and not the skin

Defines, designs the whole

For who we are begins within

Where thought and God control

What lies beneath, the bud employs

Its bloom of vernal wreath

Is but the aftermath of joys

In travail borne beneath

What lies beneath may seem quite veiled

But Time its truth imparts

The fruit we bear is but the yield  

Of gardens in the heart

© Janet Martin

May the Lord bless and Keep You...a Birthday Poem

May the Lord bless and keep you

And may His love fill

The hours still waiting

In the palm of His will

May the Lord bless and keep you

For only He knows

The day and the hour

When life’s curtain will close

May the Lord bless and keep you

And may this day be

As you look back on it

A dear memory

Janet Martin

Happy 50^th Birthday, Susan

With Love

From your cousin, Janet

Susan is my first cousin on my Dad's side of the family to turn 50! Watch out Susan, there's many cousins right behind you;))

Sonnet of Soon...

We dare not while or waste our flighty will

Nor choose the quagmire of despondency

Unless alas, no hope can set us free

And winter does not drift beyond the hill

The hour folds the cheerless into naught

Each moment holds a virgin second chance

Within the song of spring the zephyrs dance

Eager to quench their thirst with vernal draught

Life’s battle keens our bravery and trust

And we must fight; this trench of blood and dirt

Tries us; and yet in spite of living’s hurt

We praise the One who probes this vapid dust

For just as spring returns to sallow slope

His offering fills our mouths with hope

How eagerly life’s moments drink the hour

The stricken limb pulses, pregnant with bloom

The hollow void of winter’s living-room

Will surge with emerald joy and new-born flow’r

Lift up those weary feet; the dismal tear

Cannot remain; for lo, hope is not dead

The season and the valley dark with dread

If we press onward, soon will disappear

For this four-season scope of mortal whim

Is not the pinnacle of victory

Life’s highs and lows are simply what must be

Before we gather at the feet of Him

Where fear and turmoil will not test again

The hands and feet that do not strive in vain

If hope was gone, then would creation wail

And mountains fall into the sea in fear

The Living Hope that tune’s time’s transient sphere

Will never die; His Love will never fail

And just as winter warms to spring once more

So too, the chilling gale of grief will pass

Beneath the snow are oceans of green grass

This brief travail leads to Heaven’s fair shore

The cup of pain and sorrow soon will brim

With milk and honey-comb; the piercing thorn

Will bear the rose; the night becomes the morn

And someday soon we’ll touch the feet of Him

Who suffered; by His stripes we all are healed

And soon love’s mysteries will be revealed

© Janet Martin

Image Source

Thursday Thoughts of Praise

Thank-you God for eyes to see

The beauty of the winter tree

Serenely sketched, blue on white snow

Or etched against the sunset’s glow

You thrill our humble, hungry gaze

With nature’s tried and tested ways

And as each season sweeps the sod

We see glimpses of You, oh God

Thank-you God, for ears to hear

Your powers drench the atmosphere

Wind in the willow, free and wild

Pure, carefree laughter of a child

Each season-surge original

The moody midnight madrigal

The canticle of nature’s laud

Are whispers of Your voice, oh God

Thank-you God, for arms to hold

Our children when life’s storms are cold

For in the warmth their hug imparts

We feel You touch our heart of hearts

And we can bear the searing ache

Of moments when our hearts would break

But for the hands that reach to heal

The hurts only a heart can feel

Oh, taste and see the wonder of

The One who fills us with His love

Oh, taste God’s mercy and His grace

Redemption’s sweet, sweet promises

Oh, see and hear and touch and taste

The beauty of each moment’s haste

Drawing us nearer to the Light

When faith at last will become sight

© Janet Martin

See: For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1:20

Hear: Then he said, "Anyone with ears to hear should listen and understand." Mark 4:9

Touch; He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Ps. 147:3

Taste: Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him. Ps. 34:8

Victoria and I were driving home around supper-time today marveling at God's beautiful handiwork ; the stunning simplicity of a winter's dusk. After supper I pulled up a blank page and jotted down the four lines that bounced their way home with me. As Victoria and I worked on some preparations for her birthday on Saturday every so often I would wander out and peg down a few more thoughts. By Victoria's bedtime I had 'felt' my way through the first two stanzas, but I didn't start with the 'touch' verse because there are so many, many things one feels; then Victoria stole up behind me, wrapped her arms around my neck, hugged me long and hard and whispered, 'Mom, I hope this hug writes a really good poem for you'; the next stanza fell from my finger-tips/heart before her touch cooled.

Oh God, tune my heart to sing your praise

and never let it falter

Teach me to fully trust Your ways

and lay mine on Your altar

Time-share

 

Mommy, will you read me a story?

In a moment, dear little son

I have some things I must finish first

But I’ll come when the work’s all done

Mommy, can I try to help you

So we can have some fun?

Son, run and play with your sister

Then I’ll come when the work’s all done

Mommy, can you throw this ball to me?

Not right now, precious son

Mother is in a hurry

To get her work all done

…she sits in a chair by the window

Waiting for her darling son

He says he is going to call her

Soon, when his work’s all done

© Janet Martin

No matter what stage of life we are in, we should only have time to love.

Make this day a memory you will be glad of.

Image Source

On Awareness

 

We ought to hold dearly

Fully and sincerely

These loved ones we cherish so much

For one never knows

When the curtain will close

As they slip from beneath our touch

We ought to love gladly

Because someday sadly

The light in those eyes will grow dark

We never know

When that last wind will blow

Snuffing life’s flickering spark

We ought to live truly

Rendering duly

Love’s moments; and not fret or fuss

For we never know

When we need to let go

Or when God may call for us

© Janet Martin

Empathizing...

 

Woman, O, woman what maketh thee tick
I wish I could tell you I don’t give a lick
But the truth, painful truth, when it’s all said and told
Is that keeping thee happy is worth more than gold

It don’t give me pleasure when yer ridin’ yer broom
But I’m mighty good at clearin’ out of the room
‘Cause when Ma’s on the war-path we jes’ better run
An’ stay out of the house til her stewin’ is done

Yesterdays words brought me smiles and a kiss
I tried ‘em today an’ I don’t know what it is
But I thought you was goin’ to bite off my head
So out through the back door I hastily fled

Woman, O woman, if I had what it took
I’d write one of them thar best-seller books
Cause I’ve lived with ye mor’en twenty year
An’ there’s things I ain’t never gonna figure out, I fear

Woman, O woman, I can’t understand
When God created you from the rib of a man
Why didn’t he take another rib as well
An’ create an’ instruction manual?

Just for fun;) to all you men!
Last night I gave my son a playful push when he complained that his sister is driving him CRAZY! Then I winked and I growly- whispered in his ear...'get used to it my dear, cause we women drive you guys crazy for a long, long time!First it's your mom and sisters, then its your girlfriend, your wife...' he laughed.
  And then there's  those poor dearest hubbies who really do have to learn how to roll with the punches; aka mood-swings:). I dug this poem out of the archives, because the other night hubby shook his head and said, 'I'm never, never gonna figure you out'. I felt a sincere wave of sympathy and empathy because I don't have myself figured out yet either.