Love

   

This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 1 John 4:10

Image Source; pinterest

The whole world cries for it

The soldier dies for it

The young maid sighs for it

Love

The mourner mourns for it

The drifter burns for it

The scorner spurns,

Yet yearns for it

Love

The preacher prays for it

The lonely man pays for it

The gambler plays for it

Love

The miser saves for it

The beggar craves for it

The rich man slaves for it

Love

The devil lied for it

The sinner cried for it

The Savior died for it

Love

© Janet Martin

Of Masterpieces and Mortality

 For more Masterpieces see here 
or song below.

Oh, Artist of each season

Thy canvas sky and sod

Only a fool can see and yet

Deny that You are God

No man can match Your beauty

Each frame a Master-piece

Spring, summer, fall and winter

Portray Your awesomeness

Oh, Painter without parchment

We bow beneath Your brush

The God of earth and Heaven

Will never forsake us

© Janet Martin

 The fool says in his heart, "There is no God." They are corrupt, their deeds are vile; Ps. 14:1  

  

Wishing you a wonderful, worshipful week-end!

Of Absolutes

 The golden-rod is silver...

Time will take its course

The leaf must fall away

And by a moment’s force

The gold will turn to gray

Both seed and deed will bear

Its fruit; the law of such

Ascribes to Deity somewhere

That our hands cannot touch

Hope will not make ashamed

God’s Will will be done

And every knee will bow

When that last trump is blown

Love will conquer all

We are not doomed to strife

For all will hear His call

‘I AM the Truth and Life’

© Janet Martin

The News as We Hear It...

  

Image Source

Writer's Unite PAD challenge Day 2: For today’s prompt, write a “news of the day” poem.

After editting
and rhetoric
and politics,
After omissions
and Conditions
and many
ignored submissions
we have
Today's News

Janet Martin

November Appears

November came whooshing in, in torrential down-pours and 90k/hr winds!

Writer's Digest PAD; Day 1, For today’s prompt, write an appearing poem.

After the harvest is gathered

After the tree sheds its tear

After its leaf-song is scattered

Over a landscape dull; drear

November appears

After sweet dog-days are squandered

In lemonade afternoons

And after the poet has wandered

Over its sun-shadow tunes…

After the twilight is hastened

Early toward stilly-deep

After the kissing of children

And stories and prayers ere they sleep

After the Margarets and Johnnys

All have out-grown last year’s shoes

And after the bee has its honey

And asters have crooned farewell blues

…after the spilling of roses

Follows the path of its peers

While ‘neath our feet a door closes

Over a graveyard of years

November appears

© Janet Martin  

Before and After

My thought-life was divided in two for such a long time; ‘before the wedding’ and ‘after the wedding’. Thus, I find myself looking for new before’s and touching softly the long ‘ever-afters’

…and now I wonder; what hidden ‘before’

Lurks in the hours that fall

The ‘after you’ of many a love

Has no ending point at all

But the ‘before’ is a breath-by-breath race

To unknowns that we cannot tell

I have known pinnacles in love’s embrace

And loneliness akin to hell

Thus expectation divides my intent

‘befores’ are an intricate thing

It is the path leading to the advent

Of what ‘ever-after’ will bring

Synchronized free-fall of heart-ache and laughter

Caught in the middle of ‘Before’ and ‘After’

© Janet Martin

I chuckled the other day as I watched my daughter’s impatience; her eagerness to get everything in place, her dreams of ‘their place’ and I wanted to say, oh, my precious, you’re gonna miss this!’

so, I take a slow walk around the house and whisper, 'mom, you're gonna miss this'

  

  

October-mood

Though I tug upon your coat-tail and implore you to remain

You advance toward the exit in the color of the rain

Kindred spirits never sever though the hour may depart

You will be my love forever, sweet October of my heart

 

By the time these words are written you’ll be standing at the gates

Where the leaf is heavy-laden and your time-drawn carriage waits

And I know you will not see me, watching as you slip away

But I know that you will feel me in your wild and lonesome gray

You have spilled your umber palette where first gold and scarlet fell

And the ivy on the lintel weeps its tears in fond farewell

Do not hasten so my darling, grief has no expiry date

If I could I’d bolt Time’s door and softly beckon you to wait…

You have tuned my heart with laughter and with angst of letting go

You have strewn the final splendor of your robe like russet snow

And I cannot find the hem of midnight; darkness fills the air

It is still; I hear the tiptoe of November on the stair

© Janet Martin

Hallowe-en Hug

There are mommy and daddy hugs
And hugs from wee boys and girls
But I think fuzzy, green caterpillar hugs
Are the coziest hugs in the world!

I just got hugged by a fuzzy-wuzzy green caterpillar(aka Nathan;)