Saturday, July 26, 2014

Warrior of Smile-caresses...






 I was glad that all of us could be together at the cottage for a few days...then, they 'had to go'. This afternoon Victoria hugged me and asked if I'm sad as I paused at the above photos and I smiled (shakily) and said, 'sorta sad yet so happy' and hugged her....hard;) reminding her (me) things never stay the same for long... (she missed them too). Rob and Emily surprised us last night by driving back up for one more night!!

She masks hunger wildly bleeding
Feels her face to find its smile
This is quite unlike those fleeting
Farewells we suffer a while

Bravely she becomes kind kisses
Love lends to parting’s embrace
Will to whisper warm word-wishes
Through a smile upon her face

Permanence of Past impresses
Compels her to persevere
Warrior of smile-caresses
Watches children disappear

Yet, scattered on paths behind her
Between vapor page preserved
Echoes love’s gentle reminder
Life gave more than she deserved

© Janet Martin

Yet Poor Enough






Rich enough to treasure joy
As hill and hollow spill
Like window-boxes to the world
Wild-flower miracle

Rich enough to feel the rush
Of wordless, wondrous awe
Where Perfect Painter dips his brush
To palettes without flaw

Rich enough to know the Staff
From whence all blessings flow
Where mercy pleads on our behalf
For all we do not know

Rich enough to taste the bread
That rains its crumbs on kings
Yet poor enough to prize the thread
That weaves life’s simple things

© Janet Martin

Often, as I enjoy the beauty of nature I think of the tour guide in mountainous Ecuador who reminded a friend(after he commented that 'at least they live among stunning beauty'),  'it is a great blessing indeed to be well and fed enough to enjoy nature's beauty'.

Dreamer's Summary




 (a sweet view through eyes half-closed this week).


That far-off speck on the skyline
Roars past; we wear its dust
While we toy with time’s inklings
Like maybes before Must

Oh, treasonous vexation
Primed in pittance of youth
Suave, without hesitation
Time wraps us in its truth

Dreamers distort the air
With self-supposed mirage
While breath-by-breath we bear and bare
What none can camouflage

…and all the by-and-bys
That once our minds composed
Are nothing now but wending sighs
Behind our eyes, half-closed

© Janet Martin

Of Endless Letting Go





But then it drifts away
Like ducks, past outstretched piers
A flicker ‘mongst the reeds or waves
Before it disappears

A mourning-tempo bends
The reaches of her soul
She cannot clasp what living lends
And time cannot console

The hour breaks in two
Morning slips into noon
Mist-mantled seas don eyes of blue
Ere evening comes too soon

Still, she craves to endure
This aching ebb and flow
Where life unfolds the sweet allure
Of endless letting go

© Janet Martin

...back home and going through the usual withdrawal symptoms;)

The tenure of this song sort of speaks my mindset right now...coming home to acquaint ourselves with the latest horror-headlines; no one can hide away on an island, completely unscathed and unaccountable, yet the sweetness of those 'get-away' echoes spurs us on.

Friday, July 18, 2014

If You should Happen Past My House...





If you should happen past my house
And you would see it as you go
Would it look like the sort of place
Of someone you would like to know?

And would its lawn and gardens grin
…a rainbow-colored welcome mat
And would they whisper,’ come on in’
To sit a spell for tea and chat?

If you should happen past my house
I’d like to think that it would be
A ‘home-away-from-home-like-hug’
Just to keep you company

Strange, how every now and then
We pass a house that seems to glow
With a sweet sort of ‘welcome-grin’
Of someone we would like to know

© Janet Martin

Don't you find that some houses just have a homey welcome-hug appeal as you pass by? Tomorrow we leave for the cottage and I have a few such houses 'ear-marked' to smile to as we pass...

(so if this porch is a little quiet, I know you will understand,
sometimes we simply have to sit with toes in sea and sand;)


Happy side-note: Changed the spark-plug, added fresh oil; and Br-r-r-m! the tiller started! (frustration mentioned here) The garden hopefully won't be a total jungle when we return.