Saturday, April 24, 2021

Dear Child, Why Do We Spend Precious Time With You?



Train up a child in the way he should go,
And when he is old he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

For today's prompt, write a question poem. 

Bird-watching/learning

Grampa-trampa-line...

Aunty-secrets

Order up; Pine-cone Corndog

puppy-love

Next two photos; photo credit Brittany Ruppert
Uncle antics...

Aunty-acrobats



Why do we walk, talk, read, sing, pray
And spend precious time patiently
With you? Because, sweet child, someday
The sapling will become a tree

How swift the seed begins to sprout
To crucial pliability
Thus, it takes love’s diligent clout
To train the tendrils of a tree

…the kind and gentle touch, the knife
To prune weak offshoots faithfully
So, you can weather storms of life
When you become a full-grown tree

How brief the shaping season is
How swift the tender sapling grows
Why do we scold, hold, hug and kiss
To make you strong when life's wind blows

© Janet Martin

Why Do I Look The Way I Look?

 To Whomever it may concern😂

For today's prompt, write a question poem. 

So while a scale horizon-lines...

Why do I look the way I look?
Well, I get lost in thought your see
My mind is like a picture book
When thinking gets the best of me

So, if my gaze seems far away
Though we are sitting, eye to eye
And I miss most of what you say
And make no sense with my reply

Forgive me, if you can, my dears
I am still learning the fine art
Of fitting words inside my ears
When I am lost in worlds apart

So while I scale horizon-lines
And fail to listen, please be kind
And smile as I wrangle with vines
 Tangled in mazes of my mind


© Janet Martin

Why Do I Love You, Poem-hon?

 

Sometimes Poem does not want to be
only the lover, but the loved!

For today's prompt, write a question poem. 

(for my poem-hon)😊 



Why do I love you, 
Poem, so?
Your sweep and surging
Ebb and flow
Fills nooks and crooks
And crannies of
Life’s lackluster layouts
With love
While the world seems
To fall apart
You stay the course
And cheer the heart

You are courageous
And uncouth
And not afraid to
Tell the truth
Yet when you do
You are not cruel
Or treat the student
Like a fool
But with the woo of
Lilt and rhyme
You tune the truant
To the crime

You test and tame
And teach and tease
And vex and calm
With melodies
Drawn from a fresco
Flushed with stars
Or siphoned from
Dusk-brumal bars
You train me how
To dance or fight
To fly, to fall
To read and write

You make me brave
When I am not
Dare me to dredge
The grave of thought
Or surf the turquoise
Wave of dreams
To take me where
Brigadoon gleams
Like ancient castles
In the sun
You are my prince
Dear Poem-hon

You are a leaf
A silhouette
Of Grief and Wonder's
Pirouette
You twist fear's fist
 To figure-eights
As ink and sigh
Amalgamates
You are a candle
On a sill
A flicker on
Wicks of 'Until' 

Why do I love you,
Poem-hon
Your empathy
Second to none
You lend an
Understanding tear
Your page
A patient, listening ear
You spill and thrill
And fill time’s toll
With treasures chiseled
From the soul

© Janet Martin

Friday, April 23, 2021

Appointment With Laughter

 PAD Challenge 23: For today's prompt, write an appointment poem.

No matter how hard 
life is
Here's hoping 
now and then
it grants 
the goodness
of laughter

***

No matter how hard 
life is,
Here's to puppies 
and children...
because both have 
the beautiful, innocent 
ability 
of bringing the blessing 
of laughter

***






We have the neighbour's permission to 'enjoy' their pup
so Victoria loves playing with him till he's tired out...



These stomping grounds of dreams and dread
Confounds the bounds of heart and head
Where tug and hug wage wonder’s war
Midst beauty’s boast and duty’s chore

…where good intent is not enough
To reinvent the bent of love
Or the cement of moment-gold
As it pours into Bygone’s mold

These haves-and-holds of here-and-now
Of flying high and pushing plow
Is either ink of drudgery
Or patina of poetry

These stomping grounds of sound and sight
Abound with downer and delight
Yet, this grab-bag of groan and smile
Makes nabbing life’s coattail worthwhile

For appointments with hurt and hope
And dirt dappled with ‘nope-nope-nope’
Surprise us with sweet happiness
Because of laughter's ‘yes-yes-yes’

© Janet Martin



Date With Destiny



PAD Challenge 23: For today's prompt, write an appointment poem.



This date with Destiny
That no one can deny
Or somehow go unnoticed in
That Ledger in the sky

This date with Destiny
Ought to make us think thrice
About filling each moment with
Love’s gentle sacrifice

For what we leave behind
Becomes our legacy
While each breath draws us closer to
This date with Destiny

Ah Death! None can escape
The Reaper’s Swinging Scythe
Or the Appointment that awaits
As we step from this life

Then, pray that we prepare!
For Exodus Profound
For death is life's one certainty
The grave, it's common ground

This dust we stir with feet
Soon claims its due return
As Deathless Soul transcends time's toll
Far from earth's umber urn

The shadow that still falls
Across stone-stippled lea
The sacred image of the Soul
Awaiting Destiny

© Janet Martin




Heb.9:27-28

And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment, 
 so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, 
will appear a second time, not to deal with sin 
but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.

Date With Daybreak...

PAD Challenge 23: For today's prompt, write an appointment poem.




Ah, let me look at you longer
You always hurry by
As if you had appointments too
Up in the big blue sky

Ah, let me linger in your blush
Of young and fresh appeal
…yet, as I plea I sense the tug
Of duty’s tireless zeal

Ah, let me lean over the brink
Of where no one has been
To touch the hemline of your robe
Shimmering, silver-green

Ah, from my perch upon my porch
Let me learn, sweet and slow
Beneath the sunshine of your smile
The art of letting go

© Janet Martin

Thursday, April 22, 2021

For Thee, Dear Earth's Creator

 PAD Challenge day 22: Write a nature poem.

For Thee, Dear Tree


For Thee, Dear Bud


For Thee, Dear Seed



For Thee, Dear Bird 


and Brook...



For Thee, Dear Lord...




For thee, dear tree that spreads thy root-webbed skein
Beneath our feet, to drink from darksome spring
While overhead thy leafy mezzanine
Spills shadow-rooms fit for beggar and king

For thee, dear bud, that cups a wondrous loom
Where none can witness nature’s steadfast law
Until thy broken seal reveals the bloom
And steals our breath, ten-thousand times, with awe

For thee, dear seed, of grand potential
A miracle within a speck-sized brood
Yet, from these origins so miniscule
A feast unfolds; earth’s table groans with food

For thee, dear bird and brook and butterfly
And buzzing bee in petal-portico
For hills and plains that roll out to the sky
In tides of green and gold and indigo

For Thee, dear Lord, that didst entrust earth’s heart
To be cared for and tended by mankind
I humbly vow to try to do my part
To labour well, with future-kin in mind

© Janet Martin

Isa.6:3
And they were calling to one another:
 "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory."

Psalm 24:1
The earth is the LORD'S, and the fulness thereof; 
the world, and they that dwell therein.

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

Reminder To Me or Tangled Work of Art or Strings Attached


PAD Challenge 21: Here is Robert Lee Brewer's Prompt for Today

For today's prompt, take the phrase "(blank) Me," 
replace the blank with a word or phrase, 
make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.
 

How pure the banter of the breeze
That skims the rippled brook...


How precious, child's boots caked with mud...



How beautiful is joy, how bright
Its happiness, unmatched
But remember, the sheer delight
Of joy has strings attached

How pure the banter of the breeze
That skims the rippled brook
And plucks joy’s strings in melodies
Not written in a book

How lovely is the laughing child
How darling and how dear
How sweet the street where dreams run wild
Before Doors interfere

How precious, child's boots caked with mud
After heads bow with grief
Beside a grave, where Mortal Bud
Is restored to Time's Chief 

For strings of joy both bind and rend
Oh, how they tug and throb
As sorrow sears the tender end
And keens the soul to God

How frayed, joy’s strings, through letting go
How stained with salty tears
How stretched by high five and low blow
How seasoned with the years

How priceless then, joy’s sacred strings
(Though tangled works of art)
For from the loom of sorrow wings
A humbly, thankful heart

© Janet Martin