'Oh Well' Luxuries...

Oh well, we say as we purvey

The ‘undone’ lost to yesterday

Oh, well we sigh as flowers die

And winter fills the eager sky

Oh well, thought grieves as autumn leaves

Its petals pooled in ditch and eaves

Oh well, we laugh as photographs

Of seasons sign their autographs

Oh well, we stare where the full air

Weeps shards of triumph and despair

Oh well, we groan as what we know

Bids us hold on while we let go

Oh well, we yearn as soft we learn

The lessons of time’s no-return

Oh well, we smile while all the while

Being seduced by moment-guile

Oh well, oh well, oh well, we say

Tomorrow is another day

But one ‘oh well’, we cannot afford

To be unready to meet the Lord

© Janet Martin

Winter Sonnet (re-repost)

 

Reluctant, defeated, autumn succumbs
To winter’s purposed and powerful grip
Stealthily sleek, silver silencing numbs
The ends of our noses and fingertips
Harshly the wind rakes its talons of steel
Over the cusp of the leafy-fringed ponds
Somewhere up yonder it touches a wheel
Showering the earth with quadrillion diamonds
Winter ah, winter, the predisposed foe
Open your pockets and bring on the snow

Pull out your mittens and dust off your sled
Bundle your babies in jackets of fleece
Starry-eyed children with cheeks painted red
Shrieking and rolling in winter’s release
Frosty the snowman returns to his post
Corn pipe and blue scarf to ward off the chill
Miniature angels in unnumbered hosts
Cover the rooftop and valley and hill
Tumbling and twirling and spiraling down
Winter returns in her star-studded gown


Spring, summer, autumn, green, azure and gold
Planting and pruning and gathering in
Winter is white bringing with the sharp cold
A season of rest and of quieting
Gather your loved ones around the warm hearth
Kinder is love when the fretting winds blow
Winter is keeping the seed in the earth
Tucking its bed with a blanket of snow
Its days are as numbered as all other things
Winter; the glorious harbinger of spring

Janet Martin

Victoria's sheer giddiness had me digging out this poem today. 

Fall Softly, Snow

Fall softly, snow and ease your touch

Across rebellious skin and such

For the caress of silver-white

Keens thought with bittersweet delight

Fall softly, snow, a lady’s glove

Slipped over raw reluctance, love

Persuade us, herdsman of the air

To don the cloak you have prepared

For we are prone to fight the thread

Of white where brighter colors shed

Their innocence of youth, and truth

Time’s benefactor, is uncouth

…and does not care how young or fair

The summers of our hunger were

So come you must, but oh, come slow

Upon this dust, fall softly, snow

© Janet Martin

This morning was part ‘pick my heart out of my shoes’ and part ‘dumb-struck with awe’!

 

While I wrote the poem the sun came out like a big, gold exclamation point!

Somehow this morning this song just feels right; Fall Softly, Snow

The first picture in this video reminds me of the lady who braved way below freezing temperatures yesterday in Gladstone, Manitoba to bike over and help my hubby load the cattle! He told me when I called him last night that he loaded cattle with a lady with a red nose yesterday. 'What do you mean?!' I asked and he explained he was waiting for the help they promised him when lo and behold, here she came! biking through cold and snow!!
Way-to-go-girl!!!

Round is the Circle...

 ...and just like that, it looks like winter! There is snow in the forecast every day for a week!!

PAD Challenge day 14:For today’s prompt, write a follow poem.

Day follows night

or, does night follow day?

I'm not sure, but Time flies

either way...

In confetti

from heaven, they spill snow white

after the laughter

of autumn takes flight

...where green turned red

on the tresses crowned king

over the yard all summer

as spring

...birthed beginnings 

in buds that bore 

the flower that fell

to winter's floor

Day follows night

or, does night follow day?

My, my, how dark to light

steals Time away

Janet~

Can you believe we're almost half-way through November?!

Heirs Because...

Before His throne

The Tomb

Before the tomb

The cross

Before the cross

A manger

Before the manger

A throne

© Janet Martin

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,  to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, 1 Pet. 1:3-4

  

In Search of Christmas Day

 Scott Woods included this poem on his Christmas Album
It is title #16. Check out his tour schedule to see if he is coming to a town near you or treat yourself to a new Christmas Album!



T'was Christmas Eve and all through town the lights blinked red and green,
Snow was softly falling down where naked worlds had been,
Last minute shoppers rushed on home, discarding final lists,
While others packed up and left town to see dear folk they’d missed

Then, as I gazed on up the street I spied a form alone,
He wandered as if searching for something a long time gone,
He paused to view the festive scenes in windows twinkling bright,
Where ‘Merry Xmas’ signs were strung in honor of this night

Then up the silent street He trod, his steps were sad and slow,
Unlike the rush these walks had known a few short hours ago,
Past Santa’s smiling face he walked, past a twinkling Christmas tree,
Up to a window brightly lit where he could stand and see

Inside each person rushed about dreaming of Christmas day,
Dressing up the turkey or tucking last gifts away,
Dreaming of feasts, laughter and gifts, tables o’er-flowing with food
Trees laden down with presents for all, oh, what a holiday mood

Stockings were hung at the fireplace, everything was complete,
The table was set with cookies and milk for Santa’s special treat,
While folk all sang the Christmas carols and talked of Christmas cheer,
The stranger outside the window turned away and wiped a tear

'Tis true, he cried, tis awful truth, I see it all too well,
The reason why they choose to cross out that first syllable,
'Tis Merry Xmas, that is sure, the baby and Bethlehem’s star
Are simply vague traditions from the past, so faint and far

They’ve forgotten the ‘Christ’ is what this day is really all about,
That the true meaning is all gone if they choose to cross Him out,
They’ve forgotten, it is Christ, not Santa, that represents Christmas Day,
And in truth it is Merry Xmas if they choose to put him away

He wiped his tears and whispered, I’m sorry but I cannot stay here,
I simply do not feel at home amidst this festive cheer,
I watched him turn with broken heart and slowly walk away,
Twas then I saw the Man was Christ in search of Christmas Day

Janet Martin

Juxtaposition

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. Isa.40:28

How small our understanding is

How meager our thought

Our visage limps toward a glimpse

Of what we know of God

Last night into the sky I looked

But all that I could see

Was just how small beneath IT all

This little earth must be

How even more then, does the mind

Marvel to grasp at this;

The essence of The Present- love

That God All-Being IS

‘For God so loved the world that He

Sent His begotten Son

So none might perish but believe

And live forever on’

Then, when thought reaches to explain

The reason for it all

We must admit the whole of it

Leaves understanding small

© Janet Martin