Saturday, April 26, 2014

The Shortfall of Mortal Love




Love, I would give you everything I have to have and hold
And promise ‘we’ will be enough until I’m very old
The wanting for your touch I pray would never fill or wane
Nor would I suffer very much if love should cause my pain

Darling, the satisfaction of man-woman melded heart
Would be enough forever, but for Love’s intrinsic Part
And just to have you need me would be its immortal prize
Its thrill my hallelujah and its kiss my paradise

Sweetheart, when love lives long enough it is life’s greatest wealth
For it has stood the test of time in sickness and in health
And as I run my fingers over lines betraying youth
I covet years to learn and earn its covenanted truth

…yet oh, for all the beauty that love’s have and hold imparts
It cannot placate wholly the hunger of human hearts
Love, I would render everything I have, to thee entrust
But, there is no salvation in a love twixt dust to dust

© Janet Martin

Mercy's Monument





You can never leave
Though our eyes no longer touch
Where once we held the Prime of life
And Innocence and such

You may think time forgets
Because distance expands
From miles and hours into years
Of echo-stricken sands

Love holds while it lets go
Farewell is not despair
But mercy’s muted monument
Of love turned into prayer

© Janet Martin~

Living Water




PAD Challenge day 26; write a water poem

We weigh our will with wanting
And weep that we are cursed
With intransigent taunting
Of begging, bleeding thirst

We stuff our cheeks and plunder
 Earth's bread-crumb luxuries
While groaning as we wonder
What will this thirst appease?

Our pockets bulge with bondage
The well of transient bliss
Lures us, like eager children
To drink its emptiness

We clamor for sweet nectar
To quaff our guilt and greed
Is there nothing but water
To fill this mouth of need?

Will we, for all existence
Be damned to drink in vain?
The hollow of resistance
Our perpetual pain?

Hark; hope pours from Love’s fountain
Spoken to sinners first
Pure, precious words of Promise
To satisfy our thirst

A Well-spring from within
And everyone who drinks from it
Will never thirst again’

© Janet Martin

Brewed Bliss



 PAD Challenge day 26: write a water poem

Water is wonderful
just as it is
But brew it through Brazilian beans
and you get
Bliss

© Janet Martin

Small and Mighty...





 PAD Challenge day 26: write a water poem

You didn’t say a word
As I spilled wrath’s disgrace
But the rebuke that roused my shame
Was written on your face

My foolhardy revolt
For all its brash veneer
Was silenced by the reprimand
Of one wee, bitty tear

© Janet Martin

Friday, April 25, 2014

All That We Have Is Today





Time is a treasure we cannot steal or borrow
And we do not know what will happen tomorrow
Ever the fortune that no one can tell
All that we have is Today; spend it well

Time is the patriarch of bygone years
No one can cage it; it just disappears
Ethereal Presence without form or face
Yet ever and always Today; gift of grace

Mute moment-merchant; no barterer he
Tick-tock allotment of favor; full, free
To beggar and baron alike will befall
Time’s equal portion, Today; that is all

Time is a breath-by-breath measure of grace
Who can foretell it or its steps retrace?
Century-boast yet its breadth none can say
All that we have of its thread is Today

© Janet Martin

Ah, Word...






Ah word, what worlds you wield
What wonder you impart
You spill your ink-fraught yield
From fathoms of the heart

Ah, word, we trace your trove
To hear the soundless sound
Of breakers crashing on a cove
Of shoes on holy ground

…of gondolas at dusk,
Or city-streets at noon
A word can spell the colors of
The azure eyes of June

Ah, word, you whisper where
The eye a thought descries
We read, deciphering with care
What word is Truth or lies

Ah, Word, we touch Thy page
Where God’s voice changeless, sure
Proves faultless still from age to age
Its promises secure


© Janet Martin


So much to read, so many opinions, much inspiration, beauty, ugliness…


Here, in God’s Word there is no deciphering between truth and lies.


Of Burden and Beacon





Here upon time’s season-fallow
We are called, not to employ
Moments for a moment’s measure
But for love’s eternal joy

Here upon thorn-thistle canvas
Ripe with dread and black with doom
We go forth; and pray Lord willing
Here and there a little bloom

Sorrow spills its solemn season
Laughter thrills our lips, ere strife
Bleeds its burden, still Love’s beacon
Breaks the dark of death with Life

Hope and heartache intermingle
This will ever be our fight
As the Love of God eternal
Lights our candle with His Light

Here upon Time’s season-vapor
We are called, not to despair
But to trust and praise our Maker
As we light hope’s wick with Prayer

© Janet Martin