The Sunday Whirl...on Monday

The shards of fall are strewn about

Lining bronze banks along the creek

And winter gales brood from the south

Against stripped landscapes pallid cheek

The flame of autumn’s afterglow

Beneath Time’s tender, tangent kiss

Is mute; as stars in ice and snow

Bedazzle stricken emptiness

Moment to moment is betrothed

It will deliver in due time

A life; New Year is softly clothed

In ambiance of hope sublime

The aftermath of seasons bleed

Out to the point of no return

But tears of joy and sorrow knead

Life-lessons we are bound to learn

So pop the top and pour some cheer

Refurbish dim and dormant dream

For soon, too soon another year

Will drift to naught in Time’s swift stream

© Janet Martin

The Sunday Whirl

The Wonders of Love

There is no pride in love

No selfish vanity

To find its pure fulfillment

We must seek humility

There is no fear in love

And as it freely pours

It never empties but instead

Increases more and more

There is no guilt in love

But its vile tempter, lust

Will sully faultless purity

And rob the heart of trust

There is no greed in love

Nor self-sought indulgence

Yet Love succors our deepest need

In wondrous recompense

There is no loss in love

Its call, our greatest debt

The more we give to fellowman

The more and more we get

© Janet Martin

Humility needs no disguises

Pride screams to claim our view

What we think of ourselves is seen

By what we say and do

***

Love and lust
Are like oil and vinegar
They do not mix

***

Lust spawns gaping hunger
It is greedy and weak-willed
While love satisfies our longing
In its giving, we are fulfilled

***

Lust is a sign of weakness
Love is proof of strength

***

Squandering Second Thoughts

 

As softly I wander back over the year

I squander sweet second thoughts on you, dearest dear

Time’s subtle purloining seals each moment-gasp

Yet it cannot steal the fond memories I clasp

Here where the cold wind moans blue in the dark

I held your hand as we strolled through the park

I hold you still though the summer has fled

And all that remains is its song in my head

Down by the woodlot stark skeletal limbs

Reach for the echo of verdant midnight hymns

But all they can muster of their fallen grace

Are winter’s stiff bluster and a tear on my face

The gathering shadow cannot snuff your sigh

Though eve snuffs the daylight and dawn snuffs the night

And though Time’s purloining seals years in its clutch

It cannot steal the thought of you from my touch

© Janet Martin

This Year...

 

 Poetic Bloomings is eager to hear of our New Years Resolutions

(short version)

Help me Lord

To seek from above

Life’s lone measure of worth

Lord, teach me to love

(longer version)

This year I want to learn to love

Love fully, the moment unfolding from

Providence above

And to love you

Not coldly, from the outside in

But simply, in spite of myriad flaws

Because we are fellow-men

I want to slow down

And listen to the words

You do not dare to tell

But speak in hungry silences

I want to learn to listen well

Oh, I want to learn to love

Before you or I slip from this swell

This year I want to learn to love

…Love bears all things

In spite of us

It does not envy, boast

Or seek selfishly

Lord, teach me to love

Others, as you have loved me

Lord, teach me this four-letter word

With heart wide open

With vision un-blurred by

By greedy groping

What good is anything, its measure to prove

If I have never

Learned to love?

© Janet Martin

Why Me, Lord?

Ode to the Year

Farewell; though you were barren but a year ago

You have borne your ordinance of victory and woe

Into the urn of no return I place your memory

There is no future in the past of nevermore will be

Farewell; the passion I perceived when first I touched your gown

Has fallen where the autumn trees have laid their burnished crown

You teased into fruition my clenched dreams of yesterday

While, softly with your other hand you stole its gleam away

Farewell; your fringe is fading, cold, gold pool against the west

Your virgin garment splattered with my crass, clumsy caress

Though fain I still would kiss your feet, you slip into the blue

The pain of love is bittersweet; where is the proof of you?

Farewell; upon the wind you ride, obscure and potent force

While we await with baited hope your forerunners discourse

Within past’s permanence you seal your four-season embrace

And never turn to kiss the farewell teardrops from my face

Farewell; oh tender gift of grace from life's Giver above
Into bygones vast ethereal place is but yesterday's love
And from compassion's bowers hallowed mercy floods the sphere
As He imparts from hope's ramparts, to us, another year

© Janet Martin

Monumental...Moment

(It was so still this morning I could almost hear it...)

Open your eyes

Do you see it?

Slipping from frost-gilded bough

Monumental breath-fortune

Here in the little ‘now’

Open your hand

Do you feel it?

No? Yet it’s there somehow

Sealing within it life’s offering

Held in the little’ now’

Open your ears

Do you hear it?

Dripping from hope-haloed prow?

Notes in a love-song of moments

Shaped in the little now

Open your mouth

Do you taste it?

Bittersweet afterglow

Reaching, receiving, releasing

All in the little ‘now’

© Janet Martin

I know…I’ve spoken of ‘the little now’ before, but

It is the only thing of worth we hold

Yet we often over-look it somehow

Because it seems so very small

We simply call it ‘now’.

Home Sweet Home

Beyond those doors and windows

Within those humble walls

Are childhood’s precious shadows

And memory-tender halls

Life’s brick and mortar dwelling

If shared in unity

Is Love’s soft-glimpsed fore-telling

Of what Heaven will be

Lord, in this little journey

Wherever we may roam

May our hearts forever be

Love’s gracious home sweet home

Janet Martin~ 

We all travel this time of year, don't we?

even if simply in thought,

back to what once was...

Above is a picture of my childhood home

Hand in Hand

 

Hand in hand with Him I go

Though fear and grief and ill wind blow

His promises will lead me home

Hand in hand, Dear Lord, I come

Hand in hand, He leads me on

Through earth’s dark night to Heaven’s dawn

His rod and staff conquers this dust

So hand in hand, in Him I trust

Hand in hand, Lord, hold me near

Lest I become burdened with fear

Remind me of to Whom I cling

Hand in hand with Christ the King

© Janet Martin