When The Gift Is Wrapped In Silence...called Writer's Block

The will of want can be a taunting whisper that distracts

And tugs us from the purpose of The Call

The will of God invites us to trust Him when fear attacks

Then make His purpose our all in all

Sometimes thought is reluctant to deploy, its joy exiled

The head hollow where heart is heavy-weighed

And we wish words would spill like laughter of a little child

Instead, silence erects a barricade

But, if we have believed that He is able, by His might

We pray, then, humbly wait upon the Lord

Until He grants permission; it is by His grace we write

From Him, for Him, to Him, the gift of word

© Janet Martin  

Hour-power... a Sonnet

How swift you lay your head on twilight’s stair

The courtship of your pleasantry a-waft

Where hillsides splay blue friendships, shadow-soft

Upon a barricade twixt Here and There

Darling, the chimera of touching you

Provokes ineptness, still, I know I must

Embrace the air that vexes dust-to-dust

Before the color-fall of your adieu

Tell me then how to love you; how can I

Be all that I can be before good-bye?

Tie ribbons, azure-noon, into my hair

Tease me with more than toil’s rigid demand

And teach me how to trust wanderlust’s hand

Lest I forfeit her freeing gait for care

And oh, may I do more than tolerate

Your steady dispensation; let me thrive

And prove with gladness that I am alive

Even as we approach yon Parting Gate

Then show me, ere the tolling of the bell

To be all that we can, before farewell

You are the kiss that breaks the bud-green seal

And when the bloom has borne its utter best

You are the fingers that lay it to rest

Where seed and husk to life and death appeal

The minute-hands upon wall-clocks dictate

Your rise and fall; a rolling, soulful surf

Where twilight rushes blue across the turf

That cradles seasons; longing’s surrogate

Darling, then love me tender, heart to heart

So I may learn to dance before we part

© Janet Martin

Dreamer's Doggerel

That full-bodied awareness

Of you slipping through me

‘Rouses within, a hurricane

Of soul-sweet agony

I know I cannot hold you

Nor ever let you go

This vexing paradox unlocks

A lover’s dance, soft-slow

My dear, I beg your pardon

But would you pause for me?

For I am not quite ready yet

To taste your memory

Then oh, sing to me sweet-heart
With half-shut starry eyes
Soft kiss me where the greedy air
Is hungry for good-byes

© Janet Martin

~No man can tame the

tick-tock

of a

 clock~

For the Love of Home

Kara at Mundane Faithfulness asks,  "What is home to you? Where is your exhale? What dreams sometimes steal your contentment of what you have?"

She makes me want to live Love with arms wide-open! ...to crave the Glorious Mundane

It is much more than she deserves

The comfort of its love-worn curves

Where heaven’s subtle shadow lies

Within the frame of laughing eyes

And Time together; set apart

From life out there, its heart to heart

A joy that money cannot buy

But grants to folk like you and I

Who, by the kindness of God’s love

Received a crumb from Favor’s trove

It is more than pen can express

Home’s pure simple-sweet happiness

Of love and learn, of spills and tears

…how fond and fleet the will of years

Melds moments into memories

And tickles time away with ease

Where suddenly we are awestruck

By the beauty of mercy’s muck

…a harbor on hope’s heaving sea

That only home-sweet-home can be

It is more than she can quite grasp

Time’s tangled cords slip through her clasp

Where Fortune wears a strange disguise

Yet weaves a holy paradise

And who knew that love’s constant mess

Could foot the crux of happiness?

Or how Mundane will ever be

The apex of excellency

In four-wall halls of chipped-paint bliss

Where home is surely heaven’s kiss

© Janet Martin

...Victoria and I watched one of our favorite black and white movies last night;
Little Women starring Katherine Hepburn

I'll Take a Large, Please

 Click on image to enlarge...

We teach, even as we reach

For well-worn excuses

Or plead for exemption

With stalemate ruses

Someone is watching

And it is our walk

That trumps the tout

Of fancy talk

We should not seek

to dismiss the charge

Compelling us each

To live life large

© Janet Martin

Don't bear alone

This day you trod

But brave it with

the grace of God 

 

You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.”  But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your ancestors, as it is today.

 If you ever forget the Lord your God and follow other gods and worship and bow down to them, I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed.  Like the nations the Lord destroyed before you, so you will be destroyed for not obeying the Lord your God. 

Deut. 8:18-20