Preference or Principle

The ploys of preference seeks to

Drown out Old Principle

Greed sees no need to think Choice through

To the Invisible

Preference grabs at instant ease

Ignoring wisdom’s voice

Where consequence cannot appease

The aftermath of Choice

But Principle, unwavering

Does not alter its stance

It scans the span beyond the wing

Of present Circumstance

And looks to One higher than man

Whose precept was ordained

To give us something Truer than

The whims of Want unchained

Ah, Principal or Preference

We have it All to lose

Where morrow’s Awesome dividends

Depend on what we choose

© Janet Martin

But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king's meat, nor with the wine which he drank: therefore he requested of the prince of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself. Daniel 1:8

Of All There Is to Learn

In all the ways of growing old

That we must learn to learn

In spite of what we have been told

As soft the seasons turn

We are not spared and cannot keep

The forward flow of days from sleep

In all the ways that days allow

Of laughter, love and loss

It seems we are surprised somehow

By life’s swift albatross

And how its charge is intertwined

With mercy- gardens, lily-lined

In all the ways of have and hold

A stunning undertow

Roars rampant as the skies unfold

Time’s timeless letting go

The dark consumes the little day

The flower blooms then falls away

In all the changeless laws of dust

That we inherit here

It seems we need to learn to trust

Or suffer, cursed with fear

As we learn all there is to learn

In this Through-way of No Return

© Janet Martin

 For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. 

The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away:

1 Pet.1:24

I know summer flies by, yet, every summer I'm stunned at the haste of it!

Last night I stood, mesmerized as hallowed good-byes

washed ripened harvest with sighs...

Summer's Soft-sorrowing Sigh

I just finished a farewell tour of sorts in my flower-garden...

Akin to bittersweet good-bye

Of bidding fond farewell to friends

Is summer’s soft-sorrowing sigh

When flowers fade as blooming ends

The heart-tugs of love’s letting go

Must cater to the call of clocks

As still, in spite of what we know

We are stunned by what Time unlocks

The cricket trills, the blossom spills

The bud that stole our breath is stripped

The resting place of daffodils

Is unrelenting and tight-lipped

And often, smitten to the quick

We realize anew the old

How subtle is the painting-stick

Air-brushing hours from our hold

We walk the garden path slowly

Savor the sweetness on our tongue

For akin to the flowers we

Acknowledge no one can stay young

© Janet Martin

...of course, there is still LOTS left to enjoy; flower-gardens, that is.

Of life, who can know? 

Things to Remember

It’s easy to forget

In living’s coming-going plod

That the way we treat fellowmen

Reflects to them our love for God

It’s easy to forget

When fanciful Enticement tempts

That, after the brief thrill of it

Remains far-reaching consequence

It’s easy to forget

The words that spew from tempers lost

Carry, in spite of deep regret

A sad, inevitable cost

It’s easy to forget

How swift moments tune history

And how each little thing we do

Adds to life’s lasting legacy

It’s easy to forget

That by the grace of God we go

No matter where or who we are

We should remember it is so

© Janet Martin

 Therefore we ought to give the more earnest heed 

to the things which we have heard, 

lest at any time we should let them slip. 

Heb. 2:1

From Age to Age...Sonnets on Poetry

I found a Treasure last week at a local thrift-store. The cashier raised her eye-brows, repeating the price and I told her it's fine because the money is going to help someone who really needs it and I get a gorgeous old book of poetry! 

The poetry in this volume is breath-taking and as relevant today as it was Then because matters of the human heart never really change.

 

 

This is the first poem in the book! (click to enlarge for easier reading)

  

 

Oh, language of labored intricacies,

Oh, dialect of Divine intertwined

With stuttering of thought that we appease

In verse transported from the heart and mind

Then pressed upon a page, from age to age

Preserved for those still centuries afar

From he or she who freed a lyric caged

And trembling on the stage of human heart

Where Time cannot annul those matters there

The laws of love and longing's cry immune

To liberal progression; thus some dare

To curb with ink the spirit’s unchained tune

Which weeps within, unchanged since Time began

To test and vex the foolish ways of man

***

Praise God with every breath, dear fellow-friend

For poetry is more than patent word

Or edifices of syllable penned

Come, bow and let the human heart be stirred

Where poetry pours from dawn’s far-flung doors

Or, as dusk bars its shutters once again

It splays its poesy on fallow-floors

And spills its trill to every hill like rain

That falls upon the just and unjust too

For God does not withhold His glory, no

His poetry is free for all to view

And be awed speechless by its comely show

To minor poets; He bestows the ink

Whereby the pen is filled and poets drink

***

Four seasons worth; this is earth’s carapace

Where birth and death’s half-breath proximity

Stuns mankind’s thought. We reach. Who can embrace

This Slipping through our fingers to Past's sea 

Save in a valiant verse as poets drain

From eventide and countryside and hearts

Attempts to tenderly snare and contain

In poetry the ken that God imparts

To soothe and smooth the defects of this place

Prone to impress us with Futility

If we are ignorant of Kinder Grace

Lacing existence with His poetry

Where meeker instruments of ink and page

Seek to preserve Glimpses, from age to age

© Janet Martin