Saturday, November 5, 2016

After...





Autumn stretches and settles now
Her call of beauty heeded
Over and done, her color-show
Expectation exceeded

She lays her head on summer shed
And lifts a toast to winter
While some onlookers ache with dread
And others host a shiver

Her limb and scrim a farewell hymn
To nature’s leafy laughter
And hillside lamplight growing dim
Poised on the brim of After

© Janet Martin

That Is Why He Came...





" ...you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 
Matt.1:21

He saves us; that is why He came
Atonement's endless Being
God gave His Son whose precious name
Sends demon-darkness fleeing

He came; this of His own accord
Mercy, purposed and fervent
He, King of kings and Lord of lords
Came to us as love’s servant

He came; Perfection put on flesh
Hope’s Promise for all nations
Immortal God; man’s righteousness
And blood-purchased salvation

He came; left Heaven’s throne for us
Sin’s curse broken forever
He came, God’s only son, Jesus
Deliverer and Saviour

He came so when we leave this place
Death will not be our sanction
He came to save; His love and grace
Will be our Resurrection

© Janet Martin


Friday, November 4, 2016

Have You Joined The Throng That Sings This Song?




When wending through time’s newborn hue
That turns blue-gray before our eyes
When stretch and yawn of fresh-faced dawn
Fades to the spawn of lullabies

When have and hold of plum and gold
Relents to tatters, umber-toned
And laugh and love must learn to prove
The words that star-eyed youth intoned

When hope and pray becomes the way
We cope with visage juxtaposed
With what we earn and what we learn
Of the return of deeds exposed

When wending though the dream-and-do
And blue and green of sky and grass
We join the throng that sings this song,
'How swift the sift of seasons pass'

© Janet Martin



Victor of the Spills or Truth-teller





Time,
You roar,
spill chill through new chinks in my shield
(How true Truth is)
While,
on the soft brow of untried ideals
You place your kiss
And sooner then,
rather than later, too
Each victim victor earns
Through lessons learned,
the yearning sting of you
And your no returns

© Janet Martin

November's Guerdon



A wave of want and wonder
Washes soft, into a sigh
Beneath November-splendor
Of autumn's guerdon; good-bye 



The wind woos and siphons adieus of gold
From limbs languishing, lusterless and cold
Like artwork, pencil-sketched, etched on a page
Of mottled aftermath and frost-dipped sage
Where feet of come-and-going dash across
The hands committed to time’s albatross

The air is silence-steeped where loss of leaves
Muffles our tread with Whiling’s winnowed sheaves
The crown of nature (like all living must
After its breath of life) returns to dust
The dreamer and the doer, side by side
Caught in an urn of unrelenting tide

See, on the prow of Now, unstoppered chance
Runs through the brow of autumn’s weathered stance
Where blush of laugh-and-dancing June becomes
The hush to which each eager noon succumbs
Its particles of life-to-death enmesh
And meld to primal steppingstones of flesh

Ah, yes, we say, oh, no; and so it goes
The green fields of the mind cling to the rose
While season’s seamless synchronicity
Undresses and refurbishes the lea
Like illusion, warm in a child’s embrace
Is honed to the bone by breathing’s wild wind-chase

A mantle of purple presses its tulle
Across tresses of Time’s hulled push and pull
A hand of mercy blesses mortal plight
Replenishing the bud culled of delight
And where wild apples dapple dormant fields
Earth’s tomb is rife with bloom that springtime yields

© Janet Martin