Magic or Miracle?

Vowels and consonants shape words

Words correlate with thought, soft stirred

Thought threads their will then sets them free

To stir a heart with poetry

Ah, poetry, thought’s finest urge

Where common ground and heaven merge

Within the heart that learns to dance

With simple vowels and consonant

Now suddenly the silence sighs

And lures us like a lover’s eyes

That dares us to taste the romance

That waits in vowels and consonants

© Janet Martin

OctpoWriMo

My Quest...

Then let the west beguile the east

And let the sky lay out its feast

Where the sun climbs Time’s azure hold

And while its spills its bit of gold

Let me learn, by its grin and grit

To make the very best of it

Then, when the west becomes the seal

That snuffs this spiral from time’s reel

And when its last ray disappears

Into that place of bygone years

I’d like, as I think on its bit

To know I made the best of it

Then, when I leave this trace of sod

To look upon the face of God

And touch that Hand, gracious and kind

I’d like to leave this proof behind

A life of pure and noble quest

A legacy of Humble Best

© Janet Martin

Today's sunny, cold and soon turning to cloud-rain Best looks quite domestic; baking, cooking, cleaning, laundry, taxiing,

Wishing you a blessed Best Saturday!

 "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! Matt.25:21

Time-glass (OctPoWriMo)

Dawn breaks the Dark, Earth wafts in space

We rise and shine but by God’s grace

Time trickles through man’s needy

Clutch, while we exhaust its

Taste and touch with

Have and hold

And dreams

And such

We

Groan

Beneath

Love’s letting

Go while moments

Wear our want and woe

And hours bear our sweat and

Tears and all the while days turn to

Years where dawn breaks dark, earth wafts

 in space, we live and love but by God’s  grace

© Janet Martin

OctPoWriMo

Thence...

Somewhere along the way

We lose our innocence

As we begin to weigh

Action With Consequence

...and every child must learn

This Thing none can refuse

That Consequence is the return

Of action that we choose

So if we would be wise

We should remember Thence

That in each action softly lies

The fruit of consequence

© Janet Martin

While spending some time on the thinking chair, one of the little guys I babysit and I had a conversation about consequence; about how we cannot control what someone else says or does, but we are responsible for our own actions and response

To The Drifter That Pauses

The hour flashes

Like a disco ball

Between leaves and branches

Of early fall

It rouses hunger

For more than dreams

Where moments fall prey

To time’s one-way schemes

Still, the afternoon

Renders romance

To the drifter that pauses

Where sunbeams dance

© Janet Martin