Momentous Mementos

I am no weaver, I laughed, as someone suggested I might want to purchase a large loom for-sale at our local thrift store. 

But I was wrong. We all are weavers of a sacred thread! 

What are you weaving with the colors you hold?

Yesterday's colors ran through the carefree shrieks and laughter of children at precious play.

Today's threads, Lord willing, will be woven into echoes of a family reunion with cousins I rarely see!

As seasons spin time’s thinning thread

They weave far more than eye can see

With colors on the mind’s eye spread

Of moment turned to memory

How common Present seems, how small

Each segregated breath may feel

As tick and tock of clock-stock falls

Like stitches from a spinning wheel

No mortal valor, boast or creed

Can pause or slow the flow that slips

Into fathoms where daily deed

Is triumphed by twilight’s eclipse

Now you are there and I am here

Where smile and tear love’s While imparts

Before its moments disappear

Into the belvedere of hearts

…when all that will be left of ‘we’

(No one escapes that mortal dread)

Will be the ageless memory

Of what we did and what we said

The sweetest gift we all can give

No matter what our lot may be

Is to weave with each day we live

What leaves a lovely memory

© Janet Martin

The book Brantley seems thrilled to be holding was given to me by a friend/co-worker when Emily was born...the subtle shuttle of Time's luminous loom-in-us stuns us with its moment-ous mementos!

Memory's Roses

 

What sacred sympathies

What soothing melodies entwine

As sweet, sweet memories, my love

Keep your heart next to mine

Ah, happiness and grief

Mingle in bitter-sweetest throes

Death’s farewell is so brief, my love

The dark can wear a rose

And though we must let go

We hold on to love’s dearest part

The place where mem’ries flow, my love

And keep us heart to heart

The dark is not unkind

Though vows that bind are severed, oh,

God soothes the heart and mind, my love

Where memory-roses grow

© Janet Martin

Roses at Midnight

How precious were those moments

How dear the common hour

Like buds that gently opened

Into petals of a flower

Love’s laughter was like sunshine

It’s suff’ring like the rain

Its seasons like the rose and thorn

Of life’s pleasure and pain

How hardly we had held them

Before they fell away

Rose petals on a garden

In a world of yesterday

And where there had been laughter

Where rafters rang with cheer

It seemed that ever after

Surely love would wear a tear

The bough of bloom was broken

The loom of gladness rent

Where sorrow was love’s token

Of a lifetime fully spent

But God, so rich in mercy

From petals grace bestows

Stirs from love’s tender mem’ry

The beauty of a rose

From folds of sweetest fragrance

When night is dark and still

The power of mere moments

Performs a miracle

What precious, precious comfort

Fond memories can impart

As roses bloom at midnight

In gardens of the heart

 Janet Martin

Midnight's Rose

There is a bloom that blithely blows

Upon grief’s tomb called Midnight Rose

Dearest by far its fragile form

Beams like a star through sorrow’s storm

It soothes the prick of thorny stem

With ruby-tinted diadem

As echoes from fond days asleep

Return to bloom on midnight’s deep

The air can wear the soul-sweet scent

Where flowered hours came and went

The night is filled with soundless sound

As petals strew Thought’s hallowed ground

Tears cannot wash lost smiles away

Or drown the crown of yesterday

Where oft, softly they reappear

As Midnight Roses draw them near

…and almost we can feel their touch

And presence that we miss so much

Midnight, where rambling roses nod

Cupped in the faithful hand of God

The faithful hand of God, ah this

Is where the crux of comfort IS

With love His compassion bestows

To midnight’s loneliness, a rose

Then pray that nobody forgets

The Bloom that here and now begets

Where, who knows when, its Echo blows

Across the tomb of Midnight’s Rose

© Janet Martin

Simple-Soul Sonata

A glimpse at simple gladness that fill busy everyday with awesome wonder!

How lovely are life’s simple things

Its treasure spills from earthy troves

And grants its wealth to toiling kings

In butterfly and flower groves

How precious are life’s simple gifts

The clink of coin can never buy

The lilt of lark, the dark that shifts

The glory of a sunset sky

How priceless are life’s simple joys

They come in common shape and size

Of laughing, learning girls and boys

Of book-tea-shade-tree paradise

The scent as summer rain splats dust

The love of family and friend

Heart-hearths kindled with hope and trust

As fond farewells and hellos blend

A window warmed with flower-jars

An hour here or there, care free

To stroll a knoll of wild-bloom stars

Or loll beneath noon’s blue-sky sea

A poem penned by ink or spree

Of humble tumble-weed, a fence-

line fit for finest royalty

Festooned in nature's innocence

  

How fully fair life’s simple Best

A puddle full of golden sun

And for the one who knows God, rest

And heaven when this life is done

© Janet Martin

 The LORD is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works.

Psalm 145:9