Mute Melody

Milkweed is mantled in mauve-silver mist

Summer is tucked like a child softly kissed

Hazy, the noon sighs and slips to a page

Of chapters forgotten in blue-strife and sage

Darling, to clench our fists and rebel

Will not refund seasons or deter farewell

Crimson and bronze escort green by the arm

Autumn steals summer in ravishing charm

Hope finds new wings; we bow and Believe

For we are all children of Adam and Eve

Dusk spills its vesper onto musky breeze

Darling, how quickly Time weaves memories

I sense Time’s touch re-arranging the air

Running red ribbons through summer’s gold hair

The dissonant murmur of autumn-pretext

Tangles within me; a summer-heart vexed

With whispers, my darling, and mute melodies

Shaping the hour into memories

© Janet Martin

Melody

Of Mulled Moments

Just one more week until the next school-year begins, we say

Yet, who can guarantee that we have even one more day

To dance in dusty gardens or to pause on cricket-stage

And who can say for certain we will turn tomorrow’s page?

We drink life’s little moments but we oft forget to taste

We dash through darling summer in an absent-minded haste

The cup of duty over-flows; the green is turning gold

God, teach us how to make the most of moments in our hold

Work, worry, want and wander-lust; perplexing doggerel

With summer mulling dreams and dust into winsome farewell

The orchard bends with harvest and the hour brims with hope

Lord, teach us how to taste this little moment in our cup

© Janet Martin

Before We Dream or Dance

Image Source

Before the sun has sped the girth

Of day, and sinks beneath the earth

‘Ere yester’s future fades to past

As dusk lowers its gleaming mast

Before we place our wantonness

Against the grace of morning tress

To taste the essence of an hour

Before we bend to pluck its flow’r

Or touch our feet to unknown’s path

Before midnight’s mute aftermath

Reclaims life's roses and romance

Before we dare to dream or dance 

Before slumber seals to the air

The pictures we have painted where

No brush or force can wipe the slate

Before we rush to heap our plate 

Before we even try to stand

Lord, let us reach to take your hand

© Janet Martin

“The Lord bless you and keep you;
 The Lord make His face shine upon you,
And be gracious to you;
 The Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace.” Numbers 6: 24-26

Birthday Poem for Daughter

A daughter like you

Is a blessing from God

Beautiful, gentle

Patient and kind

We wish His goodness

Wherever you trod

And dear, precious daughter

We pray you will find

Hopes to inspire

And dreams to come true

Courage to climb higher

In whatever you do

And always remember

Wherever you go

We love you, dear daughter

Much more than you know

Mom and Dad~

Happy 19th Birthday, Melissa

Thursday Thoughts~

To take responsibility

For health of our whole

Begins, not with the bodily

But with our soul

***

What is the language of love, my God?

What gives my words credence?

Soft comes His answer to my thought

‘But this; obedience’

***

Ah, vale of wasted sorrow

What treasure tossed away

If I don’t act tomorrow

On what I learn today

***

Face to the future

Back to the past

Hand to the moment

Soon its mold is cast

***

Dusk draws its shadow

Over the day

Over the meadow

In whispers blue-gray

You draw your murmuring

Where thought is bold

Blue-gray, my darling

With flickers of gold

***

Do not begrudge life’s trouble

This is the curse of sod

And Time is but the bubble

That carries us to God

***

Your flesh is pleasant to my touch

And oh, parting is pain

But thought will hold you close, my love

Until we meet again

***

Lord, show me how to walk today

Slow down these steps that hasten

And teach me, Lord what not to say

When I should simply listen

© Janet Martin

Of Arists and Wanderers and Warriors

Artists and wanderers and warriors we go

Drawn to the turf of impending unknowns

Winding our way through life’s flowers and thorns

Reaching for Something within its mute flow

Faith is the substance of things we hope for

Hallowed evidence of the unseen

We cannot tarry in what once had been

From the horizon new mercies implore

…and onto the stepping-stone of gracious sod

Forward and upward and onward we climb

Artists and wanderers and warriors of Time

Reaching for something; ah, reaching for God

© Janet Martin

Of Days That Were...

We were looking at old photo albums. I've said it before; my kid's birthdays make me a little sentimental. Melissa turns 19 today! She laughed when she saw these photos and recalled how she was somersaulting all over the back yard.

The days that were will never be

Ever they rest in still repose

Where eye of thought alone can see

The garden of its trampled rose

The night-wind bears the beckoning

Of days gone by; we reminisce

How is it that Time’s reckoning

Employs love’s bitter-sweetest kiss?

The vibrato of cricket-song

Is but the back-drop on a stage

Where quietly we stroll among

The markers of a by-gone age

The days that were will never be

And though we touch its ether strand

To dwell within their memory

Is but to miss the day at hand

© Janet Martin

Of Seasons and Doorways

Season-kaleidoscopes turn transient tides

Where we compose retrospect’s raw refrain

Rubric of laughter abruptly collides

With the appointments of sorrow and pain

Living and loving and learning we go

Over Time’s foot-hills, mountains, vales and plains

Sunshine and shadow in multi-shades flow

As seasons spiral One Constant remains

Mercy and grace in unfathomed purport

Gently embrace and succor and support

We bear witness with baffled acumen

Life’s whys and wherefores our intellect mutes

Gently the summertime is gathered again

Hallowed harvest as choice yields its fruits

We cannot pause or dissuade Death’s advent

Futile the babble of faithless disputes

Soft breath by half-breath our dust-mottled tent

Suffers the training of heaven’s recruits

As we gaze up to faith’s covenant-goal

Our flesh the brief cup of Immortal Soul

Can we efface winter, spring, summer, fall?

Who can refute Time’s encompassing will?

Then, who can hide when the Father will call?

Who dares refuse what Love came to fulfill?

Earth wears the colors of each season-shawl

We tread its heaven-cradled countenance

This is the stairway to Love’s All-in-all

And time, but the road to deliverance

Where now seasons veil what we cannot see

A doorway leading to eternity

Janet~

Ending and cutting many beans is an opportunity to think:)