Monday, March 11, 2013

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









Sunday, March 10, 2013

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




Friday, March 8, 2013

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 50th 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

Thursday, March 7, 2013

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.


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

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

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.