Laughing With the Laughing Morning

Day Two of 2016

Morning slides down heaven’s banister

Laughs like a carefree boy

Shakes a pillow until the sky

Is filled with feathered joy

It is winter in the country

Its sweeping solitude

Is blanketed in folds of white

Delight, earth’s-song subdued

…save for the sigh in the pine tree

Save for the lone wind’s cry

Save for the far-off murmur of

Time trickling from the sky

Something tickles yonder tresses

New day wiggles its toes

Never cold to the caresses

That tick and tock bestows

Morning slides down heaven’s banister

Lands in a laughing heap

At the feet of us kicking back the cloth

Of fluffy folds of sleep

© Janet Martin

Oh, What A Life

Discovery makes new the ancient; what a life is time

Like a moss-covered milestone on which eager children climb

Clueless at how far hours reach; or what its gate unbars

We, fresh-faced foreigners, stumble-tumble toward the stars

And earn the song that yester’s young-at-heart learned through Time’s strife

Singing like they, the blue and gray of oh, oh, what a life

The take-and-make of moments is a sacred bread to break

Its crumbs of living scatter pink across dusk’s fired lake

Rhapsody and soliloquy, ballad, sonnet and prose

Unfolds in new-old poetry like fathoms of a rose

And because we are learning often we forget to look

Until its petals are pressed between pages in Past's book

Time’s tapestry of touch and taste haste’s blue through us; the grass

Once green is brown and brittle where the little hours pass

Like shadows first before us then behind us; solitude

Is often-times the playground for life’s teeming echo-brood

...where we, tongue-tired beam and dream dreams, rosy-cheeked and rife

Still singing on time’s way its melody; oh, what a life

The eyes of true love, darling, never utter condemnation

But buoy our want and will toward time’s obligation

And we would all be crying without cause for joy, but oh

Oh, what a life; the knife that wields in winds that brutal blow

Melts in the hand of Time’s forgiveness; winter turns to spring

Oh, what a life; oh, what a song Time's children learn to sing

© Janet Martin

Dear 2016

Your days a-wait beyond a gate we cannot trace with eyes

Nor spell what scenes convene where now we guess with hopeful sighs

At melodies and memories that waft soft on the air

Not rendered yet; dear year ahead, I pray we tread with care

…this unblemished appointing that you lay beneath our feet

Like midnight snow anointing earth with fresh and unmarred street

Your uprightness and downrightness and forthwithness abides

Hinged to what none can change you spill Time’s will in virgin tides

Dear year, I pray we treat each day like a prize, rare and fine

Before it melts like midnight snow in morning-gold sunshine

And when the tide goes out, as we ponder its garnered days

Pray what we see will be a testament of humble praise

…to He who sifts and grants through grace-scarred hands these centuries

Who breathes upon the bud and breaks to bloom cupped mysteries

Who tends what He kind-lends; dear year, I pray your aftermath

Will be within our memory, a smile; a precious path

In thought’s embrace and as we trace the echoes that remain

Pray, as your tide recedes we did not live your days in vain

© Janet Martin

Last night we watched the year come in at my brother Dave's house 

These celebrations often include music because we are a family of listen-to-the-words music lovers and he told me he thinks I will love this song and I do,

and oh, I love the singer too. What a voice!

This is a good song to begin the new year and remind us that life is a river...Lets cherish each twinkle on its tide...

Drink Up!

Wishing you, wherever in the world

you are,

A Blessed New Year. 

Love, 
Janet

Done With Guesses

Inspired by this post

Caught in between the old and new

…the done and what remains to do

Here, on Time’s forward avenue

Each one of us exists

Not by some feckless ordinance

Nor by mere hapless circumstance

But by the grace of second chance

That God with dawn untwists

The laws of night to day unfold

In dark to light, in gray and gold

And soon we learn what we were told

Was, is and will be so

That Time is but a tiny poof

Rushing through living’s little proof

It melts like frost upon a roof

A mystic ebb and flow

For in its onward, forward rush

With every bravo, tug and push

Its ilk recedes; the solemn hush

Of ‘Time Enough’ impends

And while its grin and sorrow drains

Into tomorrow’s sun and rains

It ebbs toward what Death unchains

Where nothing ever ends

Within the grave none can compete

Nor rival where all mortals meet

Time’s deadline; victory and defeat

Not that of flesh and blood

But of the soul; oh, who can tell

The joy of heav’n, horror of hell

We stand where grace still tolls time’s bell

And our forefathers stood

…caught in between the old and new

Where we have much we ought to do

Before we bid this Now adieu

Exchanging breath-by-breath

 And step-by-step and wake and sleep

And this which nobody can keep

For that which opens up the deep

Unveiled at last, in death

© Janet Martin

In the book Emily's Quest her beloved teacher/friend, Mr. Carpenter dies.
"Just, think, Emily, in a few minutes I will be wiser than anyone living," He says on his deathbed, "always wanted to know- to know.
 Done with guesses.

Since Cares of Living First Began...

Since cares of living first began

After Adam’s first sin

God has ordained a way for man

To still commune with Him

A rod and staff to comfort us

A sacred altar where

Nothing need ever hinder us

Our heart and soul to bare

The fellowship of God to men

Is still as sure today

As in those ancient days back when

Prophets bowed down to pray

A Shoulder in the storms of life

A beacon in the dark

And in the rise and fall of strife

An infallible ark

Before we rise, before we sleep

Before we break our bread

Pray to the One who broke five loaves

Then five-thousand were fed

Oh, pray we do not forget He

Who is our strength and stay

But that with glad humility

We don’t forget to pray

© Janet Martin