Of Think-land and Ink

We blink, the murky ink of dreamland dissipates; the stars

Like sun-sparkles on midnight’s lake alight on other shores

And now we think ahead to fit the unknowns to our Knowns

Not able to forecast the layout of its stepping stones

So many me-me-mes push, push to be our number one

And oh, we think-think-think, but thought alone gets nothing done

Our more-or-lesses are not more than other wars oft fought

The birthing room of the unknown trembles beyond our thought

The mind is never satisfied; its greedy appetite

Slams us with life’s fresh flavors; we must choose which fruit to bite

For wrong and right are not a hoax; thought’s aftermath the road

That future generations fight and cover with their blood

We blink. The ink of think-think-think drips from primed and poised pens

The more we live the less we know, it seems, but then again

With mouths wide open we inhale and never choke on gold

God tips Time’s ephemeral grail into our hollow hold

We drink. Hope’s highway to the stars is paved with the success

Of rebounding by heaven’s grace from shame and recklessness

Our wide eyes reach but cannot fit unknowns against our knowns

But trust the One who lays His grip beneath Love’s steppingstones

© Janet Martin

 Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer. Ps.19:14

Mid-night Merlot

Now daylight climbs those far-off stairs leading to prostrate past

The whistling lamplighter of stars tends to his twilight task

Now stammering and clamoring and all its kindred-mates

Muffle, caught in the shuffle of moon-beams on silver slates

Now barefoot boys are stripped of noise; silk slumber-streams unfurl

While dragons holed in horror-haunts their phantom terrors hurl

And all the colors of the world are black and charcoal-gray

Where autumn is a martinet of orange-gold-red by day

The baron is a beggar and the poet is a lord

Word-wisps are frigates set adrift where dark of dark is poured

And even though we close our eyes the charter of a thought

Is never stilled or held at bay by what sight sees as naught

Drink deep; vintage of velvet froth is pungent as it drips

Hard, hard upon the heart of hearts and soft upon the lips

Nothing of life is salvaged save the flowers that we toss

Into life's vat of memories; love’s soul-sweet albatross

© Janet Martin

Summer is never really over because...

...change the season in your veins by raising glass to lip and tilting summer in.
Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury

First Day of Autumn Poem

Worn wind wanders wooded wild

Leaf-song is its summer-child

Swift, suave generations falter

Time’s cradle; consummate alter

Wish and whimsy cannot keep

Broken blossoms from their sleep

Like free-thinkers laud rebellion

Dreamer's cling to leaf-medallion

Pretty posy, fair art thou

Yet soon, soon thy head wilt bow

We are like a field of flowers

All of life must yield to hours

Lilt of lavender, oh my

How you tease the breeze and I

But no gardener can garner

Summer, save in jelly-larders

Whiff of wonderment is Time

Twisted stubble-pocked rose-rhyme

Taste its salt-tears where surrender

Succumbs first to autumn splendor

©Janet Martin

Yesterday the weatherman said its looks like Autumn is going to make amends for what some called a ‘bummer of a summer’!

I'm not sure if every-one's google-page looks the same but today's first day of autumn page just makes one smile and feel good! 

September Kissed Her

Bliss it is to be like this

Tangled in her twist of mist

Sage plumage September-kissed

Love is laced with amethyst

Tapestry of teeming tree

Majesty of mulled, hulled lea

Moment-mustered infantry

Spills sun-sparkles on life’s sea

Russet rafters, laughter-bent

‘neath a blue and brooding tent

Cork the torque of Time’s intent

While September pays her rent

Fact and fantasy slur, blur

It is almost still summer

Pour thought’s storehouse full of Her

She which we call September

We indulge her wanderlust

Duck beneath the stern of Must

Lest she dies, lies dust-to-dust

Blown to naught by naughty gust

Love is laced with amethyst

Tangled in a twist of mist

Bliss it is to be like this

Sage with age; September-kissed

© Janet Martin

Hubby just called. He is driving through Wisconsin and he said the trees and scenery are already autumn-stellar! (well, not those words exactly but he said they are really nice bright orange and red and he wishes I could see it) ...me too.

Of Rendering and Response

When you come like this;

Reaching through darkness to crack its hold

Rolling in purple mist-oceans, then gold

Melting on muted mosaics of sod

Waking the morning with your whispers, God

…when you come like this;

 Murmured from regions thought cannot descry

Breaking the ribbons that fetter the sky

Washing the world with pearled morsels of dew

 Dawn is a shadow of Eden; Time-new

When you come like this;

Drenching the old with never-before-seen

Rending the fold of unmapped in-between

Holy unveiling on earth’s failing banks

All we can do is trust You and give thanks

© Janet Martin

Let’s choose to go forth, not in fear but in trust and thanksgiving.

Man’s mustered threats can never supersede our God, not of dead, but the living!

Here is a glimpse of what awaits the evil man starting at verse 25 in Job 15...

 ...because he shakes his fist at God
    and vaunts himself against the Almighty,
²⁶ defiantly charging against him
    with a thick, strong shield.

²⁷ “Though his face is covered with fat
    and his waist bulges with flesh,
²⁸ he will inhabit ruined towns
    and houses where no one lives,
    houses crumbling to rubble.
²⁹ He will no longer be rich and his wealth will not endure,
    nor will his possessions spread over the land.
³⁰ He will not escape the darkness;
    a flame will wither his shoots,
    and the breath of God’s mouth will carry him away.
³¹ Let him not deceive himself by trusting what is worthless,
    for he will get nothing in return.
³² Before his time he will wither,
    and his branches will not flourish.
³³ He will be like a vine stripped of its unripe grapes,
    like an olive tree shedding its blossoms.
³⁴ For the company of the godless will be barren,
    and fire will consume the tents of those who love bribes.