Monday, June 18, 2012

Dear Little Children of Three




We fall in love with them constantly
Innocence coupled with mischievous glee
Carefree perfection and curiosity
Dear, little children of three

Sunshine spills from these eager tots
Wonderment fills their guile-less thoughts
Unhindered by living’s ‘what-are-nots’
Dear, little children of three

Flurry of chatter and childish kiss
Living each moment just as it is
Lord, give me faith as pure as this
Dear, little children of three

© Janet Martin

The little guy I baby-sit turns three today. I took him with me to pick up a few groceries.
When we told the cashier that one item is his ‘birthday treat, she asked him ‘how old?’ Without setting down his tub of ju-jubes he slowly and proudly popped up three fingers and grinned. INSTANT POPULARITY!

BUT…as I am writing this he just re-appeared. He is supposed to be napping! ‘not sleepy’ is his verdict…ah yes, those dear little children of three;))...right now he is waiting for the kids to come home from school...I told him 'any minute', and yes, here they are! Gotta go! There is a birthday to celebrate!

Of Lulls and Such...




Now the sunrise
Has dissolved
In yellow on the street
The azure hull
Of mid-day’s lull
Arouses rippled heat
The eager breeze
Hides in the trees
Among its leafy tress
The glistening brow
Coveting now
Her cool and kind caress
The morning rush
Dies in the hush
Of sweltering high noon
And all is still
Save for the trill
Of song-bird’s lilting tune


Now the urgency
Of having
Eases its duress
The heart is full
As living’s lull
Extends a kind caress
The eager gleam
Of spring-tide’s dream
Is filled with wisdom’s glow
As summer fades
And autumn shades
Suggest a hint of snow
Middle-age rush
Dies in the hush
Of twilight’s gentle breeze
The heart is still
Save for the trill
Of precious memories

© Janet Martin







My Columbian Love




I cannot resist you
As I embrace your warmth
Craving your brawny essence
Darling, there is none like you
Weak imitations make me laugh
As I inhale your richness
Knowing your bliss
Will not disappoint me
My lips seek your fullness
Slowly, purposefully
I draw you in and hold
Your perfection on my tongue
Before your robust passion
 Satisfies me
Completely
Ah Maxwell, you and I
Make beautiful music together

J~

Every so often I gain a new appreciation for the blessing of
COFFEE!

Poetic Bloomings Prompt: Burning Passion


God is Good




Creation groans, the world is fraught
With turmoil, hate and grief
It longs for peace, but there is naught
As doubt spawns unbelief
But still, one truth steadfastly reigns
Though oft misunderstood
In spite of evil’s corrupt gains
God is good

Since Adam’s fall mankind must toil
And till the cursed dust
Sorrow’s fruit leaps from the soil
Stained with our sin and lust
Yet, over mortal’s hopeless pall
We see a cross of wood
Where Living Hope declares to all
God is good

Though hatred wields its fearful sword
Feigning death’s victory
Though many curse creation’s Lord
Denying Deity
Above, beneath, without, within
The power of His blood
Flows ceaselessly for our sin
God is good



 

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Impossible Undoing




If there was an undoing of certain things
I would gently loosen time’s tempered strings
And trace the scars that it has left
As I lay my head upon your chest
Then as past and present blend
Once more, you would be my friend

Moonlight seeps through the shutter-crack
A golden ladder on your back
Midnight is master of its craft
It strikes a current in the draft
And moans a haunting, sad refrain
Of things that will not pass again

A moment has no time to spare
It dangles briefly on the air
Before it slips into the past
Its latch secure and iron cast
The racket of our turmoil swept
Into the vaults where it is kept

It there was an undoing of certain things
My trembling fingers would loosen its strings
Slipping love’s sorrow from your chest
And we would leave its cloak to rest
While hours strike, one, two, three, four
Upon a sweet, forgotten shore


J~

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Budding Expectation



Adrenaline rush
A mental hush
A pulsing intimacy
Eyes closed
Juxtaposed
Against vivid imagery
Beneath my skin
Somewhere within
A budding mystery
A whispered kiss
Expectant bliss
The bud of poetry

© Janet Martin


Enjoy the Ride




Like a thought or a moment
Slipping skyward
While daylight dissolves
On dusk’s tongue
Is the carefree hour
Of youth

On the stage of middle-age
We sense
A merciless turning of page
And keen, echoing
Declarations
Of truth

We cannot stem the flow
Of thought or moments
They come, they go
And all we can do, as we're caught in its tide
Is hang on for dear life
And enjoy the ride

© Janet Martin

 We had a family reunion today...LOTS of ages present to celebrate my oldest sister's B-day...and it struck me as I looked at all the teenagers how BRIEF their 'forever young' years are(and there is no way they can know it)! Seriously, at that age we are all going to be young for a LONG time;))

Some Dads...



Some dads are really, really cool, and some are really smart,
Some dads barely went to school but still have big soft hearts,
Some dads stand up straight and tall and look all sober-like
As if they’ve never thrown a ball or raced on their old bike,
Some dads like to tease and wink and some dads laugh a lot,
I guess, I suppose, it depends, I think, on how many bills they’ve got,
‘Cause dad says, as long as the bills keep a-comin’,
He’ll have to get up an’ keep on a-workin’,
And God bless the dad that keeps on a-hummin’
Even when the bills keep a-comin’

Some dads make lots of money and some, I’ve heard, are broke,
Some say things like sweetheart and honey and some dads never joke,
Some dads work from dawn ‘til dark with little time to play,
Some take their children to the park and some just go away,
Some dads work so very hard so mother can stay home,
Some dads are so very tired, when at last they come,
But, God bless the dad, who at the end of his day
Still gets down on his knees to pray,
And God bless the faithful dad who
Teaches his little ones to pray too

Some dads are really big and tough, while some are short and thin,
Some dads are kinda’ rough and some are gentlemen,
Some dad’s hair is curly and some dad’s hair is gray,
Some don’t really worry ‘cause their hair has gone away,
Some dads drive pick-ups shiny and new, some say any wheels will do,
As long as it takes me to work and such, and the insurance on it isn’t too much,
Some dads whistle and some dads sing,
At home some dads feel as rich as a king,
But for one thing I sure am glad,
God knew how much we’d need some dads

Some dads read God’s word every night, some never read at all,
Some dads teach us wrong from right to guide us lest we fall,
And some dads are a little like God, I suppose,
‘Cause through trial and error this dad knows
Though hearts be broken and sometimes need mending,
A father’s love is never-ending,
And God bless the dad whose love never fails,
When the going gets bad, love still prevails,
Thus, for one thing I sure am glad, God knew how much we’d need some dads,
Some dads’ sure leave big shoes to fill but the One who guides them will be there still,
Someday, when someone says they’re glad God knew how much we’d need some dads

Janet Martin

I wrote this a few years ago for Father's Day