On Our Way...

Good Morning and Happy officially-Spring!

To sun-kissed hills

With daffodils

To green mist-mantled trees

To blossom hymns

On bursting limbs

And honey-scented breeze

To pansy-pomp

And tulip romp

To seedling-studded slope

To lilac-lanes

And silk-soft rains

Where wishing turns to hope

 

To golden swaths

And Luna moths

To long lean-shadowed dusk

To unearthed trails

Through back-wood vales

Heady with wild-mint musk

To blue-belled nook

And refilled brook

To velvet-vesper tune

To wicks that hold

Marsh-marigold

Like candlelight at noon

To dew-gemmed dawn

And blue-hemmed Yon

To lark-song before day

To summer’s dock

Spring springs the lock

And we are on our way

© Janet Martin

Season-love...

'You often say that', laughed Victoria,

 and I realized I do, as I commented how glad I am we live in a place of seasons…

The window-scape flaunts feathered capes

Then haunts of raving green

Then sultry,singing summer days

Then autumn’s rainbow scene

The wind that weans lush, leafy trees

And cloaks gleaned fields in white

Returns at length with bonny breeze

And blossom-stoked delight

The purple mist of summer slips

To autumnal repose

To fields and fences diamond-dipped

To buds that break in rose

© Janet Martin

Of Holds

 Thank-you Lord, for common toil's backdrop...

After a few months of mostly gray mornings we re-appreciate time's gate of universal gold...

The backdrop of life’s toil and spoil

Is metered, gold with gray

The fabric of earth’s season-glove

Oft steals our breath away

This hope-filled haze that metes out days

Of wonderment and woe

Bolsters love’s ache of give and take

…hold precedes letting go

We hold the dream that holds the gleam

That folds from Whence to Thence

We hold the child before Want’s wild

Wind echoes recompense

We hold the thought that turns to ought

That turns to word and deed

We hold the root that holds the fruit

That holds another seed

We hold the tool that tries the fool

But hones the wise man’s goal

We hold the frame that holds the flame

Of the eternal soul

We hold the day where gold and gray

When its fortune is spilled

Returns to ash beneath the dash

And splash of footsteps stilled

© Janet Martin

Beyond The Bloom

 Life; Time's constant change of plans...

The flower of new day unfolds

From bowers high above

Its imminence of gray and gold

Soon fills time’s treasure trove

One hour adheres to the next

Its subtle sequence spans

The distance, where what one expects

Oft turns to change of plans

This pith of sand on which we stand

With each sunrise and set

Is siphoned from and to the hand

That lends life’s little ‘Let’

He mesmerizes eyes with pink

As morning, like a sea

Washes across an awesome brink

Hinged to eternity

Where we, all pioneers of time

Learn to embrace, not clutch

This moment-metered pantomime

That wizens our touch

The bloom of new day breaks dawn’s bud

Its ephemeral rose

Draws forevermore nearer, love

With every curtain-close

© Janet Martin

Mercy-tide

 God's 'Good-morning' to us is uttered where all who look will hear...

The deft brush of darkness that deepened its blue

And feathered familiar vistas from view

Frees from yonder fathoms faint first-fruits of age

Etches trees in raven sketch on pastel page

The easel that eases evening from the air

And teases the tempest of color from stare

Bestows, from a palette hinged to heaven’s berth

A rose, gold and violet unveiling of earth

The fire that dimmed in embers on the west

Rekindles the east-facing scrim with hope’s zest

Where worship and wonder and want-wizened gaze

Adheres to the Mercy that meters man’s days

© Janet Martin

 Praise ye the LORD. 

O give thanks unto the LORD; 

for he is good: 

for his mercy endureth for ever.

Psalm 106:1