I Am Strong...

I’m not that strong

The road ahead

Is fraught with the unknown

It seeks to twist

My mind with dread

And turn my joy to stone

I’m not that strong

I cannot hold

The weight of sinful seed

Or with my shallow

will unfold

the strength and hope I need

I’m not that strong

But there is One

Who takes my fumbling thought

And reminds me

that He is strong

even when I’m not

© Janet Martin

…and He said unto me;

My grace is sufficient for thee;

My strength is made perfect in weakness.

Touching You~

I touch you with words

They are all that I have

For you are too far from me

Words in my thought

Words in my prayer

And words in my memory

I touch you with words

reluctant compromise

But oh, what a solace they bring

Words in a sonnet

Words in a poem

Echo of words...whispering

Janet Martin

Sonnet of Vexation...Sunday Whirl

Thought sweeps over me that I cannot bear

Grief’s alchemist sports a merciless craft

as supple portions of angst and despair

overtake tender joy where we loved and laughed

Its acumen probes with acid reproof

Bitter tears; the juices of deep regret

My sprinkled conscience is standing aloof

I cannot gauge twist my heart and my head

what leads to goodness or to plundered spoil

for your words are sweet as honey and oil

J~

The Sunday Whirl

Why Rolling-pins?

(this photo contains my smallest rolling pin and a few that I wish could talk;)

Why rolling pins?
They ask me,
intrigued as they count all 120 plus...
I smile and tell them
Well, because someday someone will ask
'Remember so-and-so's mom?'
and you will say 'no'
but then they will say,
'you know, the lady with all the rolling pins?'
and then you will laugh and say
oh! yes, I do!'

Why rolling pins?
I'm not sure,
 but there's something
solid and simple about them,
like me,
my values...
I like the images they conjure,
comfort,
fresh pie
hungry, eager children.
I look at the old battered one
and wish it could talk.
Did a loving young man carve it for his bride?
Did it ride a covered wagon
fiord streams,
finally to end up
in their first home in Canada?
Did it quietly perform,
helping a weary housewife rid herself of frustrations
she would never speak?
Did it get wielded overhead
as erring children fled,
or the dog with his nose in the stew?

I like the feel of a rolling pin in my hand.
Wooden dependability and
calming, in its back and forth motion
as I roll the pastry,
cookies,
humming,
thinking,
praying.

 Janet~

...and Laurie K.
on my other rolling pin post you asked if this means I like to bake...
I do:)
on some days:)

Closer

Image Source: caloniedoesart.wordpress.com

 

My pulse quickens

Adrenaline rush

Gathers my thought

In a sudden hush

As a ladder of moments

Stretched to the blue

Is leading me ever

Closer to You

J~

Acknowledgments... linked to Skywatch Friday

linked to Skywatch Friday

The wind bends the air in mutinous growls

Pushing the sparrow back into its nest

Yesterday’s sunshine is swallowed by scowls

Muttered from thunder-clouds low on the west

The slack grin of leisure has furrowed its brow

Purpose of plundering rides on the gale

As shutters flung open are bolted now

Respectful of nature’s preeminent wail

Elements rumble beyond man’s control

Over the delicate measure of thought

Fully aware of the vulnerable whole

In every achievement that human has wrought

Fragments of wistfulness cling to the arm

That gives and takes in a flash on the sod

As nature unleashes its wrath in a storm

Mankind acknowledges his dependence on God

© Janet Martin

Oh, Won't That Be Something...

What A Day that Will Be

Oh, won’t that be something when He plucks the veil

From our haggard earth-dimmed view

When visions of sickness and sorrow grow pale

In Heaven’s immortal hue

Oh, won’t that be something when we touch our feet

Not on this world’s broken sod

But skimming the surface of golden streets

Into the arms of God?

Oh, won’t that be something when we fly beyond

The sunset that borders the west

And all of our weeping and groaning is gone

In that promised land of rest

Oh, won’t that be something when we lay aside

This mortal body of dust

As we look to see gleaming gates swinging wide

Where treasure will never rust

Oh, won’t that be something when He takes our hand

Though wretched and poor it may be

When we hear the words, ‘good and faithful servant

I have a mansion for thee’

Oh, won’t that be something when we fall before

The throne of the heavenly King

And we praise our Savior forevermore

As ageless eternities wing

© Janet Martin

All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.

John 6:37

In the birthday poem below Mary left a comment that really got me thinking...

Secrets

They say the sun can’t talk at all

But oh, today I heard her call

From oceans of cerulean sky

She cajoled me with her eye

Right through the window to my chore

Until; she drew me through the door

And led me over emerald scape

We danced, I lay against the cape

She spread across the fragrant earth

I drank the sun-warmed wine of mirth

As purple-petal meditation

Lent a sweet intoxication

In the arms of new-born flowers

Who dares tally pithy hours?

For I must see the wee bud wake

Nudging its shell until it breaks

And I must see the leaf begin

A tiny flower on a limb

And I must hear the trill of lark

I cannot wait until its dark

For then the sun has slipped away

And I would miss what she would say

…they say the sun can’t talk at all

But I know I heard her call

What she said I'll never tell

He only hears, who listens well

© Janet Martin

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!