Saturday, November 17, 2018

But The Passing Through...

PAD Challenge 17: For today’s prompt, write a broken poem. 

Because we are prone to groaning 'whys'
where brokenness abounds
it is vital we fix our eyes
On the Healer of wounds
For He bore on our behalf
More than man understands
And wears love's sacred autograph
on out-stretched, nail-scarred hands
(for this is but the Passing Through
Before death's chilling seal
Transports us with that last gasp to 
all Heaven waits to heal)
...ah, who then can dare to afford
the everlasting cost
Of disregarding Christ the Lord
to be counted among the lost!


 

Then we of grin-groan-grit nuance
Of love’s laughter and tears
Of hope’s Immortal pursuance
While moments meld to years
‘Neath sky wide heath of dawn to dusk
Where seed of deed bears fruit
And scatters in its wake the husk
Of touch and taste’s pursuit
Where not one can undo the done
Or wipe spent seasons clean
Or force Belief or rain or sun
Or turn the fallow green
Then we of wonder, whim and wit
And ways common to man
Should entrust dust-formed grin-groan-grit
To Hope’s Incarnate Plan

…and not forget what seems so wrong
Or of small consequence
Or too impossible or long
Or without recompense
Is but part of The Passing Through
Before the Curtain Call
That will unveil Love’s Author who
Bore witness to it all
Who needs not to interrogate
(too late then to appeal)
As He makes known His own, the wait
Worth all one glimpse will heal
And banish from the mortal mind
Each agonizing ‘why’
Where hurt and hope is left behind
In the sweet by and by

© Janet Martin

Friday, November 16, 2018

Braving The Elements...

With a house full of snow-happy youngsters it's impossible not to feel a little 'inner-child revived
I read a quote the other day; 
If you choose to hate the snow you will still have the same amount of snow...just far less joy! 

So, though I would not chose Winter to begin in early to mid-November
I determine to brave its beauty with joy!


Babies gaze in sheer amazement
Mittened-mufflered children shout
Reviving in older ‘Brave-sters’
What winter is all about

Happiness is snow-stars falling
Push and dig and pull and plow
Braving happiness, my darling
Always happens here and now

Wake once more thine wide-eyed wonder
Seasons slip through skin with ease
Wear thine hoary crown with tender
Reverence for memories

Carry no tomorrow-sorrow
But acquaint thy weathered joy
(Through the bravery we borrow)
With thy inner girl or boy

For this blur of howling hunger
Weans us from earth’s seasoned prow
Not with hopes of growing younger
But with humble here and now

© Janet Martin



Thursday, November 15, 2018

Seasoned Sighs and Sacred Ties


 Tell me, tell me, tell me, 
how can it be 
mid-November already!

Through a lighthouse window in Souris PEI

This tick by tock tinder
That burns to a cinder
And turns into winter
Sweet spring, summer, fall
Will, with the same measure
Take trouble and pleasure
And turn it to treasure
Of times we recall

This high and low motion
That rolls like an ocean
Through prayers of devotion
And love’s tender tears
Gathers in its surges
Time’s day to day splurges
Where what soft-emerges
Is echo of years

This window of wishing
And 'let's just go fishing'
 Is like a cook, dishing
Out fodder for thought
Where pirates of passion
And four-season fashion 
Are bound to a ration 
Of what soon is not

This bygone-bent sally
Of hilltop and valley
Of dashing or dally
Binds us to good-byes
For soon what we savour
Slips from us forever
To season the flavour
Of ‘my, how time flies

This breath-by-breath peeling
Through which death is stealing
Is far more than feeling
Or seeing or need
Beneath skin-wreathed shutters
A deathless wing flutters
And Soul-fully utters
A Call all should heed



© Janet Martin


More from Uncle Tom's Cabin...




Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Of Homemade Soup and Biscuits

I have NO idea what to make for supper tonight, I said to Victoria at 4:30
 (because I forgot to take out the chicken last night, to thaw.)
"Soup would be good" said Victoria
Yes! The perfect way to use up one of my five heads of cauliflower I bought on sale😀😋


Cauliflower Soup and Cheese Tea Biscuits...
Simple Satisfying Supper! Yum!



Let's celebrate our hunger where November's early eve
Has drawn a starry blanket 'cross the miles we brave yet grieve
Let's celebrate the brooding backdrop with a slice of cake
Or homemade soup and biscuits like our mothers used to make

Let's count our many blessings; pray the Lord to bless our meal
And not get tangled in the gossamer of 'how we feel'
Since summer has forsook us and the dark is like a glove
Filled with the muffled music of those days and years we love 

Let's linger longer at the table now; no need to rush
The outdoors are asleep beneath the minimalist's brush
Let's celebrate our hunger with a cup of tea and cake
Or homemade soup and biscuits like our mothers used to make

Janet Martin~  



Day 14 PAD Chapbook Prompt: write a hunger poem


Hope Is The Hunger


PAD Chapbook Challenge day 14: write a hunger poem ...

Gratitude Conquers the sin of Complaint!
It does not however fill wholly/holy, the hunger!



Longing, a lion that no one can tame
Who knew a roar could be soundless and still
Ocean-like surges without form or name
Honed by a hunger this world cannot fill

Longing, a hurt only heaven can heal
Tugging where love’s count-your-blessing streams pour
Still, in the middle of wonder we kneel
Crying where craving and need plead and war

Gratitude conquers the sin of complaint
Faith feels a Father’s whisper, ‘peace, be still’
Love is a lifeline where else we would faint
Hope is the hunger that heaven will fill

© Janet Martin