Thanksgiving Wordle

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

My heart over-flows in wordless devotion

I, so unworthy of one sacred crumb

Dance on the fallow of earth’s grandest ballroom

Though obsolete garden and passion are one

…still I dance

Coniferous hat-rack and sapphire awning

Rouse in the heart a profound minuet

I sway in the arms of a red autumn morning

Admire the swallow and leaf pirouette

…as I dance

Malapert breezes spark a rare tempo

Rambunctious love song and memories swell

Over life's pond where Thought hovers in limbo

Each heartbeat reducing Time’s incumbent bell

…so I dance

Silver-cloud automobile lures my attention

To the eye of He who has offered the chance

Here on this earth to see glimpses of Heaven

I lift my heart to Him in infinite thanks

…and I dance and I dance and I dance

Janet Martin

It is Thanksgiving Day in Canada

so I wanted to combine my thoughts of thanks in this wordle.

Live and Learn

I’ve often sighed as I’ve wryly stated
I wish there was a trial run
For the word alone is under-rated
And misunderstood for one
Yet, everyone else seems to have all the answers
I wish I had their point of view
‘Cause when it comes to this thing called ‘parenting’
I sure could use a lesson or two

Then just as I think I have figured it out
--the remedy certain to ‘fix’
God smiles and adds an entirely new
Personality to the mix
And all I have learned I can toss to the wind
‘Cause it doesn’t work on ‘this one’
As, at the end of the day I sigh and I pray
Oh, for a trial run

One day I gazed into the face of my child
As he sat through an interpretation
Of the who, the what, the where and why
For my sensible explanation
He looked a little perplexed and wide-eyed
And I smiled as I saw that he did
I said, my dear one, I guess there’s no trial run
Either, for being a kid

Janet~

A Few Contradictions to my 'Words are all we Have' Poem

• 

1. 
   

Conversations with You

The way you walk through me in the still of the day

Or weep in the heart of a sigh

Insipid distraction fades, shrivels away

With naught but a wink of your eye

As you tug at me from across crowded floor

Though not a whisper is heard

Beneath us worlds tremble, we start for the door

With never an uttered word

J~

2.

Conversation with a Teenager

A huff, a puff

A stomp, a sigh

The stare, the glare

The ‘blank look’ eye,

The frown, the scowl

The slam, the shrug

The silent relenting

In the power of a hug

J~

3.

Redemption

You forgave me

In your own sweet style

Redemption washed through me

In the glow of your smile

J~

Like a Tear

Like a tear
Slipping from the face of the earth
It disappears
Into history’s ever-deepening vaults
While another
Trembles on the fringes of the dawn
In expectation
For time’s perpetual weeping never halts

Until someday
As I ride the crest of my final tear
Not to the grave
Nor, as all its predecessor’s, into history
This tear shall slip
Beyond the bar of moments cast in years
A tiny ship
Bound for the expanse of immeasurable eternity

Janet Martin

Words Are All We Have

http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Words are all we have
Congratulations,
Apologies,
Encouragement,
Vows,
Oaths,
Sentiments,
Eulogies,
Epitaphs,
Words are all we have

Janet Martin

Random Realizations

Happiness can be as simple
As a delectable journey
To the end of a pear
Or the bottom of a mug
...or the bittersweet tug
of the last chapter
Sometimes sorrow waits
In the yawn of a dark October night
As we suddenly hear nothing
But the realization
That the crickets have gone
And a sigh like a half-prayer
escapes our lips
and slips into the blue canyon
Of round, empty sky
Somehow much larger
Without a cricket’s lullaby
spiraling in fragmented lay
across the remnants of the day
...If I had known you were leaving so soon
I would have waited
And waved good-bye

J~

For Those Who Pray...

http://ponderingprinciples.com/2011/10/difficult-journey/

Inspired by above post. (click on link to read)

There is no wall that a prayer cannot scale

No hill it cannot rise above

No plea too unworthy; no whisper too frail

For the God of compassion and love

No beggar too poor, no scholar too wise

No wealth that can ever exceed

The mercy descending, as we lift our cries

To One who beholds every need

In poverty, sickness, in sorrow or pain

In hopelessness or despair

In all of life’s troubles we do not understand

We may touch God in a prayer

When words are too hard and the misery too deep

His pure, gracious love intercedes

He hears the groan of our hearts as we weep

And ministers to our deepest needs

He hears our praise and our creature complaints

He sees every tear that we shed

When spirit is willing, but our body faints

He carries us through vales of dread

Far, far away across oceans and plains

In jungle or dungeon or tent

Prayer reaches out as it heals or sustains

The one for whom it is sent

In every nation, in every tongue

He hears and He understands

No mortal too old or ever too young

To put their trust into His hands

'For those who pray...'though we don’t understand

As we place in His keeping, our care

What comfort to feel the touch of His hand

As we reach out to Him in a prayer

Janet Martin

The power of prayer is unsurpassed.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. ²⁷ And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. ²⁸ And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who^[i] have been called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:26-28

Why Do I Write?

Why do I write?

For the sheer love of it

For there is nothing quite

Like the thrill of the perfect fit

As mind slips over textures and curves

Inhaling oceans, spurred by tireless verve

Searching haunted tresses, exploring dimly-lit cells

For the intoxication of the perfectly-shaped syllable

And the wild exultation, the inexplicable pleasure

Of stumbling upon the most thrilling of treasures

Then, aligning so tenderly, word against word

With a gleam in the eye and passion stirred

As thought takes shape beneath a pen

And finally, as one breathes again

To find, in word pictures of art

The pieces of a poet’s heart

I cannot get enough of it

So I write for the

Love of it

Janet~

...and still to the Muse

…ravish me then

Do not make me beg

As I chew on my pen

For that elusive word

While you dangle

Before my weary eyes

That ‘shining spangle’

As you tantalize

Me with perfect prose

Just beyond my grasp

I’m on the tips of my toes

But alas, alas…

You find it a highly

Entertaining affair

To watch me claw wildly

At nothing…but air

Persistent Muse

You do not ask permission

As you slip in through the locks

I bolt the door and pull the shades

For all the good it does

Upon my shoulder you alight

And vow to keep me up tonight

I play my part to perfect fault

A wrinkled brow, a tight-lipped frown

You laugh and turn a somersault

Inside my mind scattered and blown

Taking full charge for you know well

Each curve inside this ivory cell

I fain would beg you to depart

Then miss you madly when you’re gone

You volley twixt my mind and heart

And seem to know when I’m alone

Are you a blessing or a curse

Tormenting me with rhyme and verse?

I cradle you between my lips

Then spit you out in wry disdain

You tease my restless fingertips

And taunt me from the wayward pen

Muse persists and Muse endures…

…take me, take me, I am yours

Janet Martin

Autumn Night

You drop your broad hem in a subtle mist

Wrapping the earth in your ample blue robe

As wand’ring hours melt into your kiss

Tranquility circles the half-moon globe

Too late to toil and too early to dream

You sweep the soil in a translucent stream

You snuff out the wink of noon’s golden pear

Tuck your dark edges o’er twilight’s pale fray

I hear a memory finger the air

Of sea-song and sunshine on shore’s far away

Why do you hasten with deep velvet plume

To brush out the roses and wild purple bloom?

Heart held in limbo beneath your cool gown

Bittersweet anguish exudes in a sigh

As futile as knowing that daylight has flown

Into the hollow of night’s lambent eye

Your crescent brooch gleams like an uncut stone

Inspiring dreams; I am not alone

Janet Martin