Wednesday, April 21, 2010

It's Nice.....


It’s nice to have a hand to hold
When the world is cruel and cold
It’s nice to know the warmth we feel
Is something simple, yet so real
I’m thankful for your love so true
It’s nice to be in love with you

Seasons come and seasons go
Some with sun and some with snow
But through it all one thing remains
The hand I hold has stayed the same
It’s nice to feel your gentle fingers
And the tender thrill that lingers

It’s nice to have a hand to touch
When no one else cares very much
You and I are two yet one
Never really all alone
It’s nice to know when we’re apart
Love wraps its fingers ‘round our heart

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Why......


Why can I think of a million things
To tell you, when you’re not with me
But as soon as I see you I’m tongue-tied
And I stumble over my own feet
You look so very beautiful
I want to tell you so
But my words come out in a jumble
So that I don’t even know
What in the world I am trying to say…
But you say you like me anyway….Why?

Why do my fingers turn into thumbs?
My dancing, a clumsy stumble
I’m sure that I read somewhere
That God gives grace to the humble
Well, I’m not graceful, as you can see
Though I’ve tasted my share of humility
All I really want to do is love you
But all the things I really want to say
Are lodged somewhere deep down inside me
Yet you’re so kind and love me anyway…Why?

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Hold Back The Minutes


A long time ago on a thousand stages
I’ve been envisioning, dreading this day
I’ve filled and tossed a thousand more pages
As I contemplated what I’d like to say
But now grand words fail me as I start to cry
And I don’t know how I can tell you good-bye

Time is a merciless clock that keeps ticking
Urging us on in a ceaseless parade
Yet I would not give back one single moment
As I recall all the memories we’ve made
Forgive me, my dear, for the tear in my eye
But I do not know how to tell you good-bye

I’ll hold you close in this hour of parting
There are no words for a moment as this
If I should perchance feel the tears starting
It’s only because of the good times I’ll miss
Hold back the minutes, I’ll try not to cry
For I do not know how to tell you good-bye

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Now I Lay Me.....


Now I lay me down my sorrows on this carpet ‘neath the moon
Night is far too grand a stage on which to play a morbid tune
There is nothing I can do today to undo what is done
So I’ll simply drink the potion poured from heavens velvet throne
While the willow and the clover and the brook beneath the pine
Hum a melody of mercy strummed by nature’s hand so fine
And the breezes laugh beside me running fingers through my hair
As the whisper of God’s glory breathes upon the misty air

Now I lay me down my worries, all my failure and regret
On a bed of dust and daisies where a thousand suns have set
For I cannot bear to dance tonight with sorrow on my brow
As the arms of mercy hold me tight and whisper to me now
And I rest my head upon the shoulder of His tender love
Wrapping me, as night grows colder in a blanket from above
Where I close my eyes and listen to a peaceful serenade
On a floor where dewdrops glisten in a ball-room heaven made

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Stained-glass Windows


I see a thousand colors gleaming
In a pattern well designed
As I see the sunset streaming
Through the windows in my mind
It’s a landscape flush with memories
Like a long, silent highway
Stretching far into the distance
Past my present fields of grey……..

It’s a meadow in the valley
And I see you standing there
Silhouette against the colors
Of my window in the air
I reach out to touch your shoulder
But the window will not break
I can only hold you closer
In a fond reverent heart-ache

Oh, you heartless stained glass windows
Tears will never wash you clean
Searching in the muted shadows
For a day that once had been
And there is no curtain broad enough
To draw across this pain
As you grace the dark horizon line
I close my eyes in vain….

For these grandest stained-glass windows
Like the great and yawning sky
Are the walls in a cathedral
Sprawled across my memory
Where time renders richest color
Pouring through each tinted pane
In the grandest stained-glass window
That my eyes have ever seen

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

There's something about running
under heaven's stained-glass windows...
when everything is still
...that is so hard to beat!

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Mr. Moody April



I must confess your moodiness
Is sometimes hard to take
Your ups and downs, your smiles and frowns
Warm sun and cold snowflake
Yesterday you came to play
With chatter sweet and yellow
Today your gold is pale and cold
You temperamental fellow

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Musing.....


In silent muse I sit with you
As shades of dusk are creeping
With purple hues the twilight view
Is dimmed ‘neath heavens keeping
And whilst a sigh slips from the sky
In low and somber breezes
It stirs my mind, this sullen wind
It taunts, torments and teases

I’ve never heard you say a word
In musings solemn hour
But we have seen the muted green
And watched the slumbering flower
The kiss of dew from velvet blue
Has been both warm and chilling
And we have shared a wordless prayer
Been strong and weak and willing

The misty hues and silver-blues
Have wrapped a shawl around us
You and I beneath a sky
Where night-time drops around us
Here we sit as stars are lit
A thousand miles apart
And yet I see you here with me
And feel you in my heart

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

Friday, April 16, 2010

Sail Then....


Sail then, oh cherished first-fruits of my womb
Sail upon life’s ocean wild and free
Too soon doth gape the dark unbidden tomb
Of duty, toil and stark reality

Youth and expectation sigh as one
Riding on the whitecaps of a dream
Dance beneath the glory of your sun
Too soon the shadow steals its distant gleam

Crashing wave and waters clear and still
Both are garments of the ocean, dear
Joy and sorrow each must have its fill…
A smile is purer tempered by a tear

Sail then, and do not fear its cost
The ocean beckons only for a chance
Before the passion of your dream is lost
On feet that have forgotten how to dance

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

So, what's a girl to do when she wakes up
with a line like the first line in this poem
as her first waking conscious thought.....
it must have been the
left-overs of a dream....yikes!!!
but it was just crazy enough to entice me a little:):)

the girls thought it was just......crazy:(