But She Will

 Thursday, our first day of spring did not win any popularity contests!

The weather worsened after I was home...

Spring, as of yet has not beget

What she is well known for

Of violet vales and emerald dales

And glad, sun-dappled floor

She has not spun from rain and sun

Those blossoms on the tree

Or teased to naught the frigid draught

Of winter revelries

But given time, this stricken clime

Of ice and sleet and snow

Will bear with joy the kind alloy

Of green and golden glow

And we know soon the afternoon

Will toss her sun-flecked lanes

Beneath our feet, though now a sheet

Of weary white remains

Spring has not brought forget-me-not

Tulip or daffodil

No garden-play or willow-sway

Or robins, but she will

© Janet Martin

Dance Card

Today I want to touch with gentle hands

Life's music written where I cannot see

The composition of a sweet, slow dance

Unraveling in moment-melody

The names and faces on this card are blurred

With ease Time’s Unknown glides across the air

Like midnight, often far more felt than heard

I sense her whispers running through my hair

Love’s live-laugh-loving lilt, its hold-let-go,

Its intermingling of gritty and grand

Of whirling, twirling wonderment and woe

Oh, let me trace each line with gentle hand

Hope places purpose in each daring step

Where faith and fear approach to take my arm

And often I am torn between the grip

Of precious peace and breath-stealing alarm

But oh, today I want to touch Time’s curve

With gentle hand, enjoy its offering

For this slow dance is more than I deserve

And darling, I don’t want to miss a thing

© Janet Martin

Where Spring-peepers Sing

Snow-swaddled swamp waits in chill-brazen dusk

Wind wails through cattails, blue, bullish and brusque

Umber-capped hilltop rouses thoughts of spring

Where in its twilight the spring peepers sing

Ruddy reed weathered by winter’s caress

Longs for the chestnut of summer-rich tress

Stark-still they suffer knowing time will bring

Saunter of zephyr where spring peepers sing

Shadow-hands etch frozen art on a sheaf

Yearning for whisper of unfolded leaf

Ah, lovely meadow of first-flower fling

Where we can list to the spring peepers sing

© Janet Martin

Thursday Thought on Thought

Within the framework of a thought

Every word and deed is wrought

God bestows to you and me
Head to hand authority 

Thought is nurtured subtly

What we hear and what we see

Plants a seed; oh, fleshly hand

Follows where thought gives command

Mighty matrix of all things

Forging from its hidden springs

All manner of good and ill

Touch is subject to thought’s will

God, teach us with holy fear

Thought’s authorship to revere

For the hand is ever taught

By the power of a thought

© Janet Martin

A few C.S. Lewis quotes to touch your thought today...

Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil.

 We all want progress, but if you’re on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.

 I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.

 Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither.

 A man can no more diminish God’s glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, ‘darkness’ on the walls of his cell.

(one of my personal favorites;) The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only – and that is to support the ultimate career.

(another fav)   No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good.

Birthday Card

Fresh frame of hope stirs, imparting its reach

To unmarked pages of lessons to teach

Up from our slumber we rise to embrace

 The soft unveiling of mercy’s washed face

God’s gracious guidance of Light does not fail

Dawn’s woven wonder in soundless exhale

Melts into morning the darkest of night

Stunning our gaze with its faithful delight

Stitched to the vesture of past, yesterday

Will not torment us again with its fray

But from love’s wellspring that never runs dry

Beauteous advent of Day fills the sky

What will the color of its garment be?

What will it spill to fill vast history?

Momentous miracle, blue, gold and gray

God-granted gift in the birth of Today

© Janet Martin

Willing Winter Away

 Dreaming dreams of Garden-days, Sun-warm kisses on my face, Heaven-dirt between my toes, 

where another summer grows...

From ether vaults mute moments drip

Easing tired tempests from Time’s grip

To past’s eternal deep

For they are frayed and weary-worn

With garments thin and tatter-torn

And it is time to sleep

The poverty of stricken hill

Pines for the laughing daffodil

Where moody winds moan wild

And every tree is like a maid

With arms spread wide to gowns of jade

And nature’s favored child

Somewhere beneath white satin sheen

Begins the stir of evergreen

In Mother Nature’s womb

For she must be delivered of

Those petal-things we dearly love

Of summer-splendid bloom

The kindling of a bandit-breeze

Arouses raindrop revelries

And sassy robin-trill

Where winter reigned, so cold and proud

The color of a kinder cloud

Gentles its stubborn will

© Janet Martin

Ah, Spring Begins

Ah, spring begins,

That thing of grins

And dappled sun

On mead and brook

Ah, spring begins

And winter’s sins

Melt into bygones

Record-book

Ah, spring at last

Flee, icy blast

For you have worn

Your welcome thin

A train of blooms

Wakes in the tombs

Where summer’s garden

Must begin

Ah, darling spring

We dance and sing

To know that soon

The storm is spent

…and tender green

Will spill its sheen

Where now the limb

Is winter-bent

Ah, spring is here

Earth’s belvedere

Awaits the touch

Of nature’s lilt

Where soft and warm

Her gentle charm

Will melt the threads

Of winter’s quilt

© Janet Martin

Tokens of Time

Where do I put you now, dear?

Where do we go from here?

We’ve known each other so long, my sweet

But always with farewell, I fear

We’ve laughed the laughter of poets

And we’ve strung an ocean of tears

Over the lintels of one a.m.

We’ve rent the night with thought-years

Where do I put echoed pleasure?

Or pain too precious to heal?

Where does one keep the treasure of grief

Rendered where time-tokens keel?

Where do I put you, darling

We need an eternal home

Ah yes, I have found the answer

I’ll keep you forever in poem

© Janet Martin