Saturday, April 12, 2014

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde





Tonight there were two of me inside
...Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Strange tug-of-war like spring-winter-north-south
Laughter and growl juxtaposed in my mouth

Sometimes sweet spring is what I want to say
But out comes the wrath of a wild winter’s day
While family chuckles, quite amused as I toss
Burnt pans to the counter-top, feeling quite cross

Some days are blossoms of violet and rose
Some bear the brunt of our unspoken woes
Two forces battle and we must decide
Between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I hope if you ask my children someday
Whom I most resembled they’ll be quick to say
‘Mostly Dr. Jekyll, easy-going, good-lookin’
But all Mr. Hyde when she burnt the cookin’…

© Janet Martin

Trying to have a little fun with more than one failure today;(

There are few things that rile me like burnt cooking and baking so I was ranting at myself as I pulled almost burnt granola bars from the oven after supper. (I was going to take them out mid-supper but of course, forgot all about granola bars as we enjoyed baked chicken, baked-potato wedges, green beans and coleslaw)
I was in the middle of a rant at myself when Matt taps me on the shoulder…’sh-h! here is the phone and I’m not sure who it is!’
Oops!! I switch to ‘hello…oh, hi, how are you doing?’ in my most cheerfullest trying voice and I heard one of the kids say. WOW! Mom’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde!!

The worst part is that I couldn’t tell that person I was raging at myself…this is a lesson for Mother to try to be self-controlled and moderate no matter what…sigh.
…so now we have granola bark instead of granola bars ‘cause they were too hard to cut.

Today’s Saturday muffins are Carrot-raisin-nut. My fav’s.

Between Saturdays



I'm not going to say it! Well okay, maybe I will...'Saturday already?!' We are a much less snowier Saturday today...YAY! Farmers are beginning to ready equipment and hearts for another year of trusting...



Life slips between Saturdays; Time’s hungry sea
Claims another week to history
Tempest and tiralee tucked to its keep
Day-by-day death-bed of Duty and sleep

Worrier, wanderer walk side by side
Fellow-companions on Time’s taking tide
Fruit of each season a brief bounty where
We plant and gather; a constant affair

...for we are never done; dreamland's lofty towers
Rise above this quickened sally of hours
How is it Time in its subtle-soft ways
Fashions a life between Saturdays?

Hold and let go; breath-stealing ballet
Between Saturdays raven youth turns gray
We bear its beauty of buffet and bliss
Marveling oft at how brief a week(or life) is…

© Janet Martin

Well, I'm off to taste what this Saturday is already eagerly spilling...moments:)

I hope you have a good one.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Love Never Fails...



   

PAD challenge day 11: make a statement as your title and expand on it

Words fail; sometimes they spew twisted, black
And I wish I could have them back
My only hope for mercy hails
To Love because it never fails

Deeds fail; I blush to view my thought
Of good intention never wrought
Accomplishment for all its pain
If not for Love would be in vain

We fail; but Love is there to mend
Where other attributes pretend
This daily death to Self prevails
And satisfies; Love never fails

© Janet Martin

Morning is a Lovely time of Life...



PAD Challenge day 11: 'make a statement as your title and expand on it' poem


Morning is a lovely time of life
The old has passed and on horizons new
Hope spills across Time’s pitfall-avenue
For we are creatures born to toil and strife
But morning is a lovely time of life

The old has passed and on horizons new
Mist-melodies unfurl on waking hills
And though we drink the gall of spills and ills
See, now our cup is filled with virgin hue
The old has passed and on horizons; New

Mist-melodies unfurl on waking hills
The glory of God’s goodness and His grace
Cannot be sealed in midnight’s dark embrace
As mercy from ten-thousand legions spills
Mist-melodies unfurl on waking hills

The glory of God’s goodness and His grace
Though oft misunderstood abides full, free
He knows, though storm may rend the sky and sea
‘Tis then we seek that comforting embrace
...the glory of God’s goodness and His grace

© Janet Martin




 



Thursday, April 10, 2014

Sonnet of Deepening Dusk (re-vamped re-post)

 
 
See how the wave of twilight converges
Over pine spire to shorelines at the sky
...how its motionless euphony surges
Earth-scented eighth-notes and willow-limb sigh
Far in the marsh the spring-peeper heralds
In vestal innocence, its wee acclaim
Beyond the hills a backdrop of coral
Deepens to ruby in ethereal flame
I taste the song of farewell in my mouth
Sassy noon zephyrs repose to the south

Stillness in choirs of heavenly tenure
Dissolves life’s temporal struggle and hurt
A melody of longing and languor
Wakens the diamond asleep in the dirt
River of moments and memories merge
With the spectator perched on midnight's brim
No word or syllable scuffs the heaven's splurge
As earth’s Creator conducts twilight’s hymn
Shimmer and shadow of moon-haloed tones
Brushes the meadow and cool cobblestones

See how the rise and fall of eve’s ocean
Clutches the heart in the swell of its cape
Feel how the tide of it tugs emotion
Aching in hollows of thought without shape
Loss and fulfillment, failure, forgiveness
End and beginning, future and past
Hurting and healing and hope coalesce
Under the banner of twilight’s broad mast
The Maestro directs the subtle release
Of night as it falls in an anthem of peace

© Janet Martin

When the Evening Shadows Cast...





When the evening shadows cast
Phantom sketches on earth’s sod
Yesterdays’ tomorrow past
Tell me, do you think of God?

When this dance of daylight dies
Leaving only thought behind
Where we scattered memories
Does God ever cross your mind?

When we’ve drained each mercy-drop
From a cup we cannot see
Tell me, do you ever stop
To say, ‘God, how I love Thee’?

Before you drift off to sleep
Tell me, what will tune your thought?
Will it be eternity?
Or something you sold or bought?

Like a ripple on a pond
Is Time’s little leap of grace
Highway to the Great Beyond
Where we’ll meet God face to face

© Janet Martin

Siphoning Sparkles...





We inhale Future and then exhale Past
Present dissolves in poetical gasp
Where soon dusk siphons a clock’s faithful fray
Into immortal clasp of Yesterday

I will be a dreamer until I die
No brute or schemer can siphon the sky
From east to west dawn to noon-tide ascends
Dripping to darkness where day’s circuit ends

Silver and gold weigh our pockets with care
I choose the treasure of laughter-drenched air
Free-fall of moments runs rampant and free
We siphon its pearls into poetry

Come, for the hour is rich with Today
Soon it will sparkle up, up and away
Inhale, exhale grace-gilded filigree
Willing its wonder into poetry

© Janet Martin

The Heart Has No Draw-string...




The heart has no draw-string
But spills constantly
Into life’s moments
Molding memory

Time is too precious
To clench; thus we dare
To love though its losses
Are grueling to bear

Into empty moments
We fling our trust
Before its extolments
Embellish time's dust

Darling, the night
Soon eclipses Today
I’ll spill my heart
To taste come-then-what-may

…for the heart has no draw-string
And I cannot keep
Music of moments
From vexing its deep

© Janet Martin