"No"

Oft times it is in retrospect
I realize love’s gift,
I see the beauty of the day
Caught up as seasons shift
And easily I recognize
The glory of the Lord
Splayed out across the flaming skies
In songs without a word

I see in love’s endearing smile
Or in fingers entwined
Whispers of its pleasant mile
Intricately designed,
But I have learned a purer love
Unseen while teardrops flow
As He bestows love’s kindest proof
In one syllable, “no”

And while I flail and kick and scream
In blind determination,
Patiently His mercy streams
From Hands of all creation
As I resist His warm embrace
Still He does not let go
Though angry teardrops bathe my face
He simply repeats “no”

…and now in humble retrospect
Tears of a broken heart
Roll down my cheek as I look up
And cry ‘How great Thou art’,
Undeserving,oh I love
The One who loves me so
For He cared for me enough
To whisper softly “no”

Janet~

As a parent sometimes this is the most challenging
word to love with...no?

As a Child I have lived long enough to see its beauty.

Taken by Surprise...

Who knew…as I pause to look at you
What a four by six piece of paper can do,
Who knew the ocean could sweep through the sky
As I look deep into the gaze of your eye?
Who knew a heart could explode in a chest?
…yet in a synchronized instant reveal life’s very best!
Who knew that one tiny, little half-grin
Would push back life’s shadows and let the sun in?
The room is quiet, yet it seems I can hear
The rush of eternities past, in my ear
Who knew? As I stand here looking at you
What a small four by six photograph can do

Janet~

...looking at some old photos last night.

Poet

She stares at the empty canvas
Contemplating which colors to use
Her brush hovers impatiently; quiet
As she takes the time to choose
The shades that will accurately reflect
The mood of passion’s stirred
Her colors are consonants and vowels
Her painting…written word

J~

September's Cricket Song

Rolling from the gleaming hill
And from the hazy slope
Rising from the heavy field
A rippling kaleidoscope
From choirs hidden in the grass
A dedicated throng
Heralding the hours that pass
September’s cricket song

In winding lanes and weathered ditch
Their melody is stirred
And in the deep night solitude
Its chirping trill is heard
A serenade from dusk till dawn
And still the whole day long
Rising from the dew-pearled lawn
September’s cricket song

Its ceaseless cadence rises, falls
But never dies away
Yet still our eyes cannot behold
The stages where they play
They fill the sighing atmosphere
A tireless, hidden throng
To tell us summer’s end is near
…September’s cricket song



Janet~

I heard them in the wee still of night,
as soon as I opened my eyes this morning,
while I was washing up lunch dishes,
and now, after supper.
I think I’ll grab a coffee and go out
Where I can have a front row seat!

May my praise be to You, oh God,
as tireless as September's cricket song!

September's Eve

You seem to me a philanderer of hours…
Wasting away the azure of noon,
I cannot dissuade your seductive powers
As you toss to the heavens a pale new moon
Snuffing out moments one flower at a time
Vexing this summer heart of mine

Without permission you toss your dark robe
Of rich and velvet blue
Across the cusp of tempered globe
With memories and dew
Paint the vast midnight with tears of the rose
We are the spectators of summer’s close

Smooth fingers reaching to softly enfold
Ditches of cattail and brush
Bloom-laden fields of burnished gold
Fade out in this premature hush
As you steal an hour out of the day
Hastening, hastening summer away

Janet~


When I returned from my run tonight I thought it must be later
than I am realizing it to be.
It was EARLIER!...only a little after 8:00 p.m. and almost dark!

Departure

The deep August sky parted
At midnight
Expelling its sorrow
In a deluge of September rain

Janet~

September is ushered in by one heck of a thunderstorm!!!

I am so glad my little campers are tucked in…downstairs.
(See poem below)

Child...

There can be no shadow of regret with you,
Perfection lent to earth,
Heaven in your smile,
You evoke in me a measure of worth
You are a child

With your hand in mine nothing else matters,
I am complete for a time,
Let the world seek its fortune
I have found mine
In a child


Janet~

My daughter has two friends here for a sleep-over.
Camping, actually.
5:00 p.m.-set up tent
6:00 p.m. supper inside because it was too windy for a camp-fire.
7:00 p.m. blow up air mattress, stock tent with sleeping bags, treats, drinks, teddies, blankets…
7:30 p.m. Oh no! If we want a fire we need to move the tent! The wind is blowing directly toward it!
7:45 p.m. We have moved the tent and it is being reassembled!
8:00 p.m. Wind has died down so ‘mom’ starts the camp-fire…
8:30 p.m. It’s getting dark. Get flashlight.
8:45 p.m. Fire is ready to roast marshmallows!
8:48 p.m. 3 marshmallows roasted aka burnt! and devoured.
8:49 p.m. Discover marshmallow in hair!
8:50 p.m. getting darker!
8:51 p.m. Tummy-aches and big eyes!
8:52 p.m. ‘mom’ suggests that if anyone does not want to sleep in the tent she will flatten the couches downstairs into beds
9:00 p.m. 3 little girls downstairs on couch feeling much better!:) Tent…empty except for the air mattress.
9:30 p.m. ‘mom’ puts in one of her favorite movies and they loved it! Curly Top (Shirley Temple) ‘mom’ becomes one of them for awhile.
It is now 11:30 p.m. little girls are laughing, giggling, and discussing…TEACHERS!
Methinks it is going to be a ‘late breakfast’ morning…for 3 little ‘campers’.

Of Imminent Departure...

Press the curves of your ethereal body
closely to me; there is urgency
trembling beneath the serenity
of imminent departure as we
put on our best brave faces
to preserve moments sealed in our hearts.

Climb over me, align the fire
in your tortured eye with my heartbeat,
Quite suddenly your lips
brimming with passion and desire
suffocates the dreamer’s bliss
in the quiver of imminent departure

I must inhale the scent of you
in our last dance; heady musk
filling my veins; eyes of blue,
Your neck is warm, your breath intoxicating
highlighting the agony of waiting
in the gathering dusk of imminent departure

A ball of crumpled wishes
lodges achingly in my throat
barring all the perfect words
that I would tell, before you go
across the pale blue hill; and so we stand
as I beg you to press closer

Seal your promise of return within my hand,
Not with summer's roses, for shortly
their petals deck the sand; oh, come closer
so I may hear; not the foot-falls of imminent departure
but the landing of your tear
on my cheek, in this farewell hour

Janet~

Rushing to Oblivion

Like impatient waters rushing
oblivious to the delicate fronds
lining the shore
Or like a flock of wild geese rising
suddenly from the neighboring pond
in a muffled whir
the wind herds moments
gently, yet firmly before it
like a scolding mother
gathering her children
for a bedtime story
…an hour together
beneath the deepening sky
before it is gone forever


J~