Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Topsy-Turvy April




 April Collage...


Somehow you keep us caught between
Beyond our years and seventeen
One day gray-cold, the next warm-gold
You lure brown hills into soft green

You tease us with first-flower hymns
Thread ruby jewels on bare limbs
Then kiss bud-brakes with lost snowflakes
Even while robin-chorus brims

You run your laughter through blue air
Then bellow like a hungry bear
You frazzle streams and dazzle dreams
You sing and dance like Fred Astaire

Somehow you keep us caught between
The way we are and seventeen
One day we’re old, the next young-bold
We follow you to hills, soft green

© Janet Martin


Lest I Miss Out...



 It was a late-getting-dishes-done evening after what I originally thought was going to be a long-walk-at sunset-evening. 
Instead, a long phone-call, Victoria sick, Matt home late and lingering, unusually chatty during his kept-warm-in-the-oven-til-he-got-home supper, back to comfort daughter who just threw up...and so on:)
Still, I wouldn't trade this evening(except Victoria being sick, of course!) for all the sunset walks in the world...

Lest I should grow immune somehow
To blessings of love’s common spoil
And I should count for nought the Now
That fills my hands with humble toil

Lest I should look across the way
And pine for that which cannot be
And miss the lovely little day
That God placed right in front of me

Lest I forget my have-and-hold
And become bold enough to fret
For someone else’s moment-gold
While treasure spills unnumbered yet

Lest I should overlook love’s prize
Wrapped in life’s simple and mundane
I pray thee Lord, open my eyes
For today will not pass again

© Janet Martin

Considering Future Heirs...





We are heirs of those
Who left behind for us
The aftermath of what they chose
Therefore it begs us thus

…to consider with care
The aftermath we choose
For every precious, future heir
That soon will fill our shoes

© Janet Martin


Most-welcomed Harbingers

Is there any face friendlier than those first flower-grins?!



Crocus, violet, pansy, oh,
Daffodil-strewn glade
Purple-yellow harbingers
Leading spring's parade

Of all earth’s countless, bount’ous blooms
Are any sweeter found
Than those first gold and purple plumes
Breaking dormant ground?

…for when their first, fair grins we ken
Hearts sing loud with glad praise
As winter yields to spring again
Then sweet, sweet summer days


© Janet Martin

Woven Need





We are woven Need
Need to breathe, need to eat, need to love,
Need to pray, need to trust the Provider
Which these Need-creatures wove

© Janet Martin