For the Love of Home

Kara at Mundane Faithfulness asks,  "What is home to you? Where is your exhale? What dreams sometimes steal your contentment of what you have?"

She makes me want to live Love with arms wide-open! ...to crave the Glorious Mundane

It is much more than she deserves

The comfort of its love-worn curves

Where heaven’s subtle shadow lies

Within the frame of laughing eyes

And Time together; set apart

From life out there, its heart to heart

A joy that money cannot buy

But grants to folk like you and I

Who, by the kindness of God’s love

Received a crumb from Favor’s trove

It is more than pen can express

Home’s pure simple-sweet happiness

Of love and learn, of spills and tears

…how fond and fleet the will of years

Melds moments into memories

And tickles time away with ease

Where suddenly we are awestruck

By the beauty of mercy’s muck

…a harbor on hope’s heaving sea

That only home-sweet-home can be

It is more than she can quite grasp

Time’s tangled cords slip through her clasp

Where Fortune wears a strange disguise

Yet weaves a holy paradise

And who knew that love’s constant mess

Could foot the crux of happiness?

Or how Mundane will ever be

The apex of excellency

In four-wall halls of chipped-paint bliss

Where home is surely heaven’s kiss

© Janet Martin

...Victoria and I watched one of our favorite black and white movies last night;
Little Women starring Katherine Hepburn

I'll Take a Large, Please

 Click on image to enlarge...

We teach, even as we reach

For well-worn excuses

Or plead for exemption

With stalemate ruses

Someone is watching

And it is our walk

That trumps the tout

Of fancy talk

We should not seek

to dismiss the charge

Compelling us each

To live life large

© Janet Martin

Don't bear alone

This day you trod

But brave it with

the grace of God 

 

You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.”  But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your ancestors, as it is today.

 If you ever forget the Lord your God and follow other gods and worship and bow down to them, I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed.  Like the nations the Lord destroyed before you, so you will be destroyed for not obeying the Lord your God. 

Deut. 8:18-20

The Long-ness of Good-bye

Last night time tucked another quaver to its silver sheaf

It almost pushed me over in a sudden wave of grief

The measure-stick of moments analyzes history

Its tally; you have never been this far away from me

Past takes its freshest picture and pins it onto a wall

It paints across dulled tincture like we never met at all

I know within my heart of hearts some things can never pass

Yet I have seen those very things like dead leaves on the grass

We cannot gather backwards, only here and now we hold

A basket that is begging for our present moment-gold

Before night draws to never-more, this door on soundless hinge

…we stagger forward to a shoreline on tomorrow’s fringe

For we are strange collectors, even as we sense and feel

Time’s stash of seasons dwindling sometimes we look back and steal

Like guilty moment-swindlers, one more itty-bitty sigh

Knowing Today is flowing to the long-ness of good-bye

© Janet Martin

Play-back

Click on images to enlarge

 ...sometimes love brought mom a drink
 or helped her stir...

 Love is a song that never grows old... no matter how old we get

(this is all three of my daughter tid-bits rolled into one poem)

Love wakes the middle-dark

And asks mom for a drink

It spawns laughter in bright blue socks

Paired with a lace-dress, pink

It wails aloud because

Pancakes burnt while she read

It clunks upon piano keys

Or up the stairs to bed

Love shouts and yells and sings

It chatters and pretends

Love argues with her brother and

It giggles with her friends

It leaves a trail of ‘stuff’

While Mom pulls out her hair

It drops balled socks on side-tables

Or underneath her chair

Love doodles in ink-dreams

And makes mom wait…and wait

It turns the van too sharply and

It sees the post too late

Love showers far too often

Raids fridge and cookie jar

Or joins mom on the porch at night

To wish upon a star

Love needs another dollar

Love needs another hug

Love shrieks 'the sky is falling'

Because it saw a bug

Then, love goes off to college

Mom wipes a tear because

Now, suddenly she misses the

Melody love once was

© Janet Martin

The Poem in Her

Plush, the whisper of your wanting

Blush, the murmur of her sighs

Hush, though breath-soft bells are flaunting

Night-farewells on hello-skies

Slow the waves of want and worry,

Blow that beacon from the east

Oh my darling, do not hurry

Morning is a hungry beast

Break the bars of law and order

Wake the world within her touch

Make the most of love before her

Sense of Time becomes too much

   

Set the curtained dark a-quiver

Forget everything but Her

Let the morning rush, a river

Running wild where hours blur

Spill within her quill an ocean

Will to word, wanton whisper

Fill her fingers with emotion

Unleash the poem in Her

© Janet Martin

another Sounds of Love Submission

It's February. Time for love and the off-spring thereof;-))