My Way

You ask me to show you I love you
And wonder at things that I say
You tell me the things that would move you
But I need to love you…my way

I cannot rehearse my emotions
This is no scene in a play
But if you look closely, my darling
You’ll see that I love you…my way

Love is not love when pretending
At words that we may choose to say
But I’ll show you love unending
If you let me love you…my way

Some see love in dark chocolate
Some speak it with poetry
But darling, let’s just love each other
And be who we are, naturally

I would not ask you to love me
In words you would not choose to say
Second-hand lines do not move me
So darling, I’ll love you…my way

Janet~

Forty-five

I bet you think today I am going to write
About birthdays and getting old
How I just can’t remember quite
What I have or have not been told
Bet you thought that this was the day
I would celebrate and lament
But all I can really think to say
Is I am ‘middle-age content’

I don’t mind the years that are slipping by
As my youth slips farther away
I don’t miss the dream that shone in my eye
In some by-gone yesterday
I really enjoy the ache in my bones
I’ve earned it, don’t you agree?
Lamenting my age is like kicking stones
And who wants to be twenty-three?

If I look in the mirror to bemoan its truth
I would not trade it away
For a couple more years of brimming youth
Without words like ‘stiff’ or ‘gray’
It’s a great day to be alive
If I could I would not turn back the page
To be something other than forty-five
Or, in other words…middle-age

No, I’m not crazy or losing my mind
To middle-age insanity
But if you believe this…may I be so kind
As to suggest that you might be?

Janet


...a little chuckle:)))
the ad that popped up in blogger as I posted this was...

'Improve your pregnancy chances over 40!!!!'

Forty-five

I bet you think today I am going to write
About birthdays and getting old
How I just can’t remember quite
What I have or have not been told
Bet you thought that this was the day
I would celebrate and lament
But all I can really think to say
Is I am ‘middle-age content’

I don’t mind the years that are slipping by
As my youth slips farther away
I don’t miss the dream that shone in my eye
In some by-gone yesterday
I really enjoy the ache in my bones
I’ve earned it, don’t you agree?
Lamenting my age is like kicking stones
And who wants to be twenty-three?

If I look in the mirror to bemoan its truth
I would not trade it away
For a couple more years of brimming youth
Without words like ‘stiff’ or ‘gray’
It’s a great day to be alive
If I could I would not turn back the page
To be something other than forty-five
Or, in other words…middle-age

No, I’m not crazy or losing my mind
To middle-age insanity
But if you believe this…may I be so kind
As to suggest that you might be?

Janet

Impossible Choices

I can choose to stroll through the garden with you
In the warm arms of the afternoon
And we could dance a slow dance or two
Beneath the wisp of a moon
But I cannot choose the things that I need
I cannot paint the sky blue
I cannot coax one flower from a seed
Nor choose to forget about you

I can choose which seeds to plant in the earth
Tucked into darkened soil
I can smile and brighten the hour with mirth
To soften the day of toil
I can choose to fret or pine for the past
But what good would it do
I cannot return to the shadow it casts
To remember or forget about you

I can choose to be happy or languish in sorrow
To be envious or content
But I cannot choose what will happen tomorrow
If higher hands circumvent
Sweep back the stars and blow out the moon
These things I cannot do
I cannot choose the breezes tune
Or choose to forget about you


J~

Forgive me for all the picture-less posts...
(VERY SLOW or non-existent unreliable internet service
for the past week or two)
...hence the sporadic posts:(

They keep telling me it will all be back to
'normal'..... soon!

Almost You Left Me

Almost you left me…
As the night lay flat against land and sky
Darkening the gaze of its azure eye
As sliver of amber moon lounged languidly
Upon a misty, mellow sea
The hint of lilac blooms fingered the air
Touching my out-stretched thought; vulnerable, bare
The tight-fisted walnut tree relinquished at last
The delicate greenery held in woody clasp
Tonight its charcoal silhouette
Longed to whirl and pirouette
As silence played a haunting tune
Across a perfect night in June
A soulful, soothing melody
Of love and loss and dark blue sea
Almost you left me beneath midnight’s spire
Almost you left me with nothing…
…but desire

J~

Blue

I would paint tonight if I could, with you
For it is such a perfect night
But silence does not have a true shade of blue
Charcoal and gray do not capture it quite
They have not yet created the essence of mist
Lying on pastures, too timid for streets
The air has a subtle and piquant twist
The wind lulls the insomniac counting sheep
And I trace the outline of you with a brush
Determined to give it my uttermost try
But I cannot capture the somnolent hush
Or the night, in the soft gaze of your eye
I would paint tonight, if I could, with you
For it is not good to be alone
But the night is unwilling to be captured in blue
And blue is the only color I own

Janet~

Mustard Seed

Lord, I can think of countless things
That qualifies as need
But oh God, more than anything
I need a mustard seed

I know that I lack wisdom Lord
But before I ask
I need a tiny little seed
To fit me for the task

For faith small as mustard seed
Can bring a mountain low
It is enough to fill each need
God, You have told me so

Do not let me waver, Lord
‘Like waves upon a sea
Driven by the wind and tossed’
I need a mustard seed

From just one tiny little seed
Begins the tallest tree
And faith sustains us in each need
If it is fixed on Thee

Janet~

But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering.
For he that wavers is like a wave of the sea
Driven by the wind and tossed. James 1:6

Already Written

We do not make life happen
God knows the who and the why
He knew that you would fit perfectly
Into the shape of my life
Ours was no chance meeting
He knew it would happen one day
Oh, what a wonderful feeling
To know He is watching always

God knew before our first breath
What day our birthday would be
He knows the minute of our death
As we step into eternity
With Him there is no unexpected
Our days are writ by His hand
And all of the wise will respect it
And reverently heed His command

Sometimes I wonder the reason
But I do not question the Giver
Some loves are but for a season
And some abide forever
Ours was no chance meeting
Whatever will be He can see
For all of our days were written, love
Before one of them came to be

Janet~


Your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written
in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16

Sometimes life's ordinary moments
are the extra-ordinary ones in retrospect...