Two-for-two Tuesday...Ah, Mystery

PAD challenge day 15: two-for-two Tues: write a love poem. write an anti-love poem

Worthless when kept

It is laughed,

Groaned and wept

For it we die

And live

None are so rich

That they no longer need it

Or too poor to

Have It to give

Climax of joy

Yet apex of sorrow

Bitter and sweet

Intertwined

It can never be

Stolen or borrowed

Mystery

By God designed

We cannot gather

Or hoard it; its increase

Can only be given

To prove

Its divine fullness

Ah, who can explain

The glorious Mystery

Of Love?

© Janet Martin

Ah, Mystery (Anti-love)

Gentle and kind

Holy, humble Healer

Heavenly Father

Comforter, Friend

Lamb on a cross,

Pardon perfected

Hope and salvation

Love without end

Gentle and kind

Yet scorned and rejected

Holy humble Healer

Yet pierced with a sword

Heavenly Father

Hated without reason

Comforter, Friend

Crucified; our Lord

Lamb on a Cross

Bleeding redemption

Pardon perfected

For hate could not slay

Hope and salvation

Free through the ages

Love without end

…yet we turn away

© Janet Martin

 

Chosen Generation (re-vamped re-post)

 

 

We are not just ‘playing house’ here

As we toil and plant earth’s sod

We are treading mercy-moments

On a stairway up to God

We are not just biding time here

Twixt the rise and set of sun

We will give account to God, dear

For each deed that we done

We are not soul-less flesh shadows

Skimming time’s fugitive glance

Nor are we a fluke of nature

Victimized by circumstance

We are precious blood-bought creatures

Bearing an eternal soul

Jesus gave Himself, an offering

To make broken sinners whole

We are born with holy purpose

Not earth's meaningless off-spring

Like a field of dandelions

We are children of a King

...created in His like-image

Knit together by the touch

Of a kind,heavenly Father

Who loves us so very much

© Janet Martin

 

As Easter week-end approaches are you not over-come with awe at such a love as Jesus has for us?

 So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. Gen. 1:27

 

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. 1 Peter 2:9

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. ^{John 3:16-17}

April Showers

 It is WILD-windy-rainy today! but what was a snow-drift the other day is now a puddle;)

April shower melts cold mantle from woodland and garden plot

Stirring buds of tulip, lilac, violet, forget-me-not

Long the fists of Old Man Winter clenched spring-sashes in deep freeze

Now we dream of fragrance snowing white from bloom-frothed apple trees

April shower stirs the cheer-a-lee from robin, dove and lark

Probing to the pulse of petals cupped within hope’s budded dark

Soon the stricken form of winter-land will flaunt fresh robes of green

As we gaze in renewed wonder where brown barrenness had been

April showers, heaven’s canticle from lowered laud-less strings

Yet we feel a reel of flowers forming in these brooding flings

Dance, the dark of winter passes in spring’s rain-drop symphony

Soon the earth will be a garden where the winter used to be

© Janet Martin

If I Were Not a Poet...

 Having some fun with PAD challenge Day 14: write an if I were' poem. Visit this page  for some very interesting 'If I Were' perspectives!

If poets were not poets nights would be for sleep and dreams

A tree merely a tree; moments the measure of life’s streams

We would not be tormented, teased or tested by the taunt

Of syllable, iambic pentameter and word-want

A river would run wild and free without vexing allure

Suggesting thoughts that poetry alone must thence procure

The tiralee of lilt and rhyme would rivet, rouse, but then

Fall prey to appetites of Time immune to ink and pen

We would not groan and grovel at the footstool of Her Muse

If poets were not poets strumming silence for its dues

But God knew His creation would inspire poetry

And so He added poets to His awesome ‘let there be’

For God gives to His creatures sundry attributes and gifts

What we do with His granting is not for our boast…but His

© Janet Martin

Sometimes I think 'oh, if I were not a poet how freeing that would be'

yet I know I would miss it and I wouldn't feel like me!

Hubby doesn't really mind my writing but every so often he'll mutter... 'how the heck did I end up with a poet?!'

If I Were You...

   

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PAD challenge day 14; write an 'If I Were' poem

If I were you, then I would be

That person in my life with me

And I would need to see and hear

The ‘me’ I am to you, my dear

If I were you I’d come to know

The person from the outside so

I wonder if I’d be okay

To hear only the things I say

If I were you right next to me

Would I enjoy my company?

Or would I find a quick excuse

To rush away…an age-old ruse

If I were you would I call me

To share life over cakes and tea?

Or would I grumble inwardly

To spend an afternoon with me?

I think I’d learn a thing or two

If for one day I would be you

I wonder what my thoughts would be

If I were you instead of me

© Janet Martin

ugh! self-examination is brutal!  

'sometimes I wish you could hear yourself' I was told this week-end...and I know its true; ' that which I would do I do not and that which I would not, that I do! oh, wretched man that I am...'

If I Were Lucky...

PAD Challenge day 14: Write an 'If I Were...' poem

If I were lucky I'd win lotteries
and draws and bets and wishes on  a star
Each four-leaf clover, stack of cards the means
To dinners with champagne and caviar

If I were lucky I'd take every chance
Without a care or second thought to need
Thirteen would be a god and I would dance
Against the odds with Lady Luck to lead

I don't believe in luck or chance or fate
The stars do not align just right for me
And often all that I can do is wait
And work and wonder at God's will for me

If I were lucky that were second best
Each day I'm awed to know that I am blessed

Janet~

...And Then It Fades Away

 I took these pics off the TV screen so they're not that good...I always feel incredibly happy for the winner of a competition and incredibly sympathetic to the disappointment of the 'almost winner'! Congratulations Bubba! and we will see you next year, Jordan. what a day at the MASTERS!

…and then it fades away

The screen of twilight dark and deep

Where both triumph and heart-break sleep

In Past’s Immortal Day

That pinnacle of bliss

Where grit and glory coalesce

Soon falls beneath the burnished tress

Of Bygone’s faded kiss

Life’s bitter loss and tear

As dreams die on hope’s gilded green

Amalgamates upon a screen

Of middle-night and yester-year

A blend of gold and gray;

On one hand joy, the other grief

A moment free-fall from Time’s sheaf

…and then it fades away

©Janet Martin

In an interview tonight they asked  Ted Scott, Bubba's caddy 'what next?' he replied  'its a little soon to think about that but he knows he's going to bed tonight to sleep and tomorrow morning we begin another day...' Isn't that what we all do? Triumph or disappointment, we go to bed and begin again in the morning!

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Tonight there were two of me inside

...Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Strange tug-of-war like spring-winter-north-south

Laughter and growl juxtaposed in my mouth

Sometimes sweet spring is what I want to say

But out comes the wrath of a wild winter’s day

While family chuckles, quite amused as I toss

Burnt pans to the counter-top, feeling quite cross

Some days are blossoms of violet and rose

Some bear the brunt of our unspoken woes

Two forces battle and we must decide

Between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I hope if you ask my children someday

Whom I most resembled they’ll be quick to say

‘Mostly Dr. Jekyll, easy-going, good-lookin’

But all Mr. Hyde when she burnt the cookin’…

© Janet Martin

Trying to have a little fun with more than one failure today;(

There are few things that rile me like burnt cooking and baking so I was ranting at myself as I pulled almost burnt granola bars from the oven after supper. (I was going to take them out mid-supper but of course, forgot all about granola bars as we enjoyed baked chicken, baked-potato wedges, green beans and coleslaw)

I was in the middle of a rant at myself when Matt taps me on the shoulder…’sh-h! here is the phone and I’m not sure who it is!’

Oops!! I switch to ‘hello…oh, hi, how are you doing?’ in my most cheerfullest trying voice and I heard one of the kids say. WOW! Mom’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde!!

The worst part is that I couldn’t tell that person I was raging at myself…this is a lesson for Mother to try to be self-controlled and moderate no matter what…sigh.

…so now we have granola bark instead of granola bars ‘cause they were too hard to cut.

Today’s Saturday muffins are Carrot-raisin-nut. My fav’s.

Between Saturdays

I'm not going to say it! Well okay, maybe I will...'Saturday already?!' We are a much less snowier Saturday today...YAY! Farmers are beginning to ready equipment and hearts for another year of trusting...

Life slips between Saturdays; Time’s hungry sea

Claims another week to history

Tempest and tiralee tucked to its keep

Day-by-day death-bed of Duty and sleep

Worrier, wanderer walk side by side

Fellow-companions on Time’s taking tide

Fruit of each season a brief bounty where

We plant and gather; a constant affair

...for we are never done; dreamland's lofty towers

Rise above this quickened sally of hours

How is it Time in its subtle-soft ways

Fashions a life between Saturdays?

Hold and let go; breath-stealing ballet

Between Saturdays raven youth turns gray

We bear its beauty of buffet and bliss

Marveling oft at how brief a week(or life) is…

© Janet Martin

Well, I'm off to taste what this Saturday is already eagerly spilling...moments:)

I hope you have a good one.

Love Never Fails...

   

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PAD challenge day 11: make a statement as your title and expand on it

Words fail; sometimes they spew twisted, black

And I wish I could have them back

My only hope for mercy hails

To Love because it never fails

Deeds fail; I blush to view my thought

Of good intention never wrought

Accomplishment for all its pain

If not for Love would be in vain

We fail; but Love is there to mend

Where other attributes pretend

This daily death to Self prevails

And satisfies; Love never fails

© Janet Martin

Morning is a Lovely time of Life...

PAD Challenge day 11: 'make a statement as your title and expand on it' poem

Morning is a lovely time of life

The old has passed and on horizons new

Hope spills across Time’s pitfall-avenue

For we are creatures born to toil and strife

But morning is a lovely time of life

The old has passed and on horizons new

Mist-melodies unfurl on waking hills

And though we drink the gall of spills and ills

See, now our cup is filled with virgin hue

The old has passed and on horizons; New

Mist-melodies unfurl on waking hills

The glory of God’s goodness and His grace

Cannot be sealed in midnight’s dark embrace

As mercy from ten-thousand legions spills

Mist-melodies unfurl on waking hills

The glory of God’s goodness and His grace

Though oft misunderstood abides full, free

He knows, though storm may rend the sky and sea

‘Tis then we seek that comforting embrace

...the glory of God’s goodness and His grace

© Janet Martin