For Winter's Child...

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Hark, hark, what mean those words

Of sweet-sacred alloy

They drift upon white-swaddled dawn

In heaven-splendid joy

And little fellows whoop

And little girls, the same

For on the morn is sweetly borne

A heavenly acclaim

...for every child to hear

What did Weatherman say?

The sweetest words you ever heard

‘Today is a snow-day’

© Janet Martin

Yes, from Christmas break to Snow-day...These are the moments of childhood sweet memories.

I'm trying to come up with a 'special something' to shape this one into...

In Winter

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You pummel the air

With feathers

Soft-cold, you hold

Our breath in a shroud

While transfixed,

We laugh aloud

That a cloud’s

Burden of beauty

Splinters

And covers the earth

In winter

© Janet Martin

Circle-Song

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The field that wore the flower where

Its yield becomes a thoroughfare

Of unborn things while winter flings

Its coat upon Time’s rusty chair

…and fills each nook and crook and roof

With diamond-stars from bars aloof

‘Four-seasons worth of time tunes earth’

The rubric of a year its proof

...here, we from its allotment learn

The epic scope of no return

And what we know of hold-let-go

…the season-flow that fills its urn

…still, ever leads us back to where

We see the bud that breaks to bear

The bonny yield that fills the field

That sleeps beneath Time’s rusty chair

…and nook and crook and roof are brushed with diamond-dust where Winter rushed

To take a seat, put up his feet and fill his pipe with stars soft-crushed…

© Janet Martin

Time Is Not A Lover

Time is not a lover

And in the end its seems

Utter disappointment

Is the climax of its dreams

Time is not a beggar

Nor is it a thief

Joy and sorrow free-fall

In covenanted grief

Time is not a savior

Its undoing way

Rends the heart with hunger

In its come-what-may

Time is no pretender

And its no return

Rivets the contender

With a long slow-burn

Time is but a pittance

Neither friend nor foe

Ephemeral threshold

Before the letting go

…and herein is the cap-sheaf

As its pulses plea

Time is the harbinger

To eternity

© Janet Martin

"LORD, make me to know my end And what is the extent of my days; Let me know how transient I am. "Behold, You have made my days as handbreadths, And my lifetime as nothing in Your sight; Surely every man at his best is a mere breath. Selah.…Ps. 39:4-5

* A River Runs Through It...

  


* inspired by the movie..

Standing alone in the deep end of day

Soft on the gloaming time’s footfalls replay

Still-flowing river of morning to night

Silent, it thunders in day’s dying light

Parade of faces and voices, they fade

Caught in this strange, silver-swift promenade

Like a wave rolling and dashing to shore

I reach to grasp it and it is no more

…no more a child, chatter-wild and carefree

No more returning to what used to be

Only the sense of farewell, brooding gray

Touching with nothing but thought, dying day

Time is a season-song filling the trees

Stripping its flight with naught but memories

Soundless, they vex me with echoing lay

Standing alone in the half-light of day

© Janet Martin