Ode to the East Window

PAD Challenge day 8:For today’s prompt, write a thing poem.
That is, pick an object to write a poem about.

 

 This morning's East-window Originals...

If not for you to frame the view of break of day then I would miss

The often speechless wonder of Creator’s grand good morning kiss

Where night, like a charcoal cocoon cradles a glorious butterfly

And as the darkness falls away it spreads its wings across the sky

My kitchen wall is like a hall showcasing Morning’s Grand Release

Each seasonal Original, Masterpiece after Masterpiece

And I would be remiss not to immortalize this in a poem

Each still-life like a costly painting in my humble home sweet home

The years go by but still my eye is tuned to what unfolds within

The rectangle around the rubric of life’s triumphs and chagrin

And I could stare for hours at the awesome artwork in your frame

Where even after all these years no two are ever quite the same

…so here’s to you, east window that inspires worship and reply

Where break of day spills fiery color-trays across canvas of sky

And come what may you always display testaments of God’s kind grace

Where He parts gates just far enough to almost glimpse the Artist’s face

© Janet Martin

 But I will sing of thy power; yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning: 

for thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble.

Ps.59:16 KJV

With Gentle Kindness While We May...

 So many respectful words tonight as the world, esp. the baseball world, 

mourns the loss of Roy Halladay ('our' Toronto Bluejay for almost 12 of his 16 baseball-career years)

Wow, what respectful tributes are honoring his memory tonight!!

If today was our last day I wonder what would people say...

With gentle kindness while we may

Ah, what a way to live

Not keeping score or taking more

Than we are glad to give

With gentle kindness while we can

For who knows morrow’s ilk

Then we should keep the words we speak

As soft and smooth as silk

With gentle kindness, would that we

Make this our humble cheer  

For none can tell when death’s farewell

Will touch those we hold dear

With gentle kindness while we may

Time grants no guarantee

Then we should live each day as if

No other day might be

© Janet Martin

Toast to Week-moments...

PAD Challenge day 7: For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

1. Write a days of the week poem. Pick one day or work through them all. Have the poem about the days or just name drop a day (or days) of the week in the poem.
2. Write a days of the weak poem. See what I did there with the spelling of “week” to “weak?” The poem could be about weakness in another, yourself, or objects that are weak.

From moment-to-moment to minute-to-minute

to hour-to-hour to day-to-day

to week-to-week to month

-to-month to year-to-year

flicker and shimmer

and glimmer a-

way

with

moment-to

minute to hour

to day to week to month

to year on year until with one

exhale the scale that measures moments-

minutes-hours-days-weeks-months-years disappears 

Janet Martin

I don't know how often I've said and will continue to say it...where do the weeks go?!

Has it really been a week since I was readying tea-cups etc. for my mom's birthday!?

are we a week into November already?!

A collage of a few moments in the first week of November 2017...

I'd like to make you quite a friend

And raise a toast to you, my dear

But here you come and there you go

You always wink and disappear

I went to tidy up...oh, caution

I found clothes that needed washin'

And while hanging them out to dry

I weedy garden caught my eye 

...and grass that needed mowing, oh

 a row that needed hoeing so

a child that needed holding

pile of towels that needed folding

then it was time for dinner

and the houseplants needed water

and the daughter needed mother

and we all needed each other 

and the dishes needed 'doing'

and the neighbor's cat some shooing

and the flowers, second-glances

and the hour, second dances 

where our chances are not numbered

nor our dances unencumbered

circumstances never worry

about weather, whether hurry

is an excuse or a reason 

wink-blink, ah, farewell Season

...I'd like to make you quite a friend

and raise a toast to you, my dear

But here you come and there you go

You always wink and disappear

Janet Martin

To Happiness Spent or To 'November'

Your bough of bequeathed bloom bows

Beneath autumn’s auburn arabesque

We empathize;

Our sighs attuned to to-do lists on Nature’s desk

Earth’s loom that laughed with lilies sleeps;

The shuttle weaving day to day

Is threaded with more modest crepe

Of brooding blue,

Cold gold

And gray

November splays a kind reminder

Of the ways

Of days and years

How swift the gift of virgin hour

Flowers,

Falters,

Disappears

And how the wow of hurry-scurry

Like the bough bent low with leaf

Succumbs to a Sultan’s edict

Where mighty mite of tock

Is chief

Dry futile tears, my dears,

And tip Now’s flask

Clasped in masked fingertips

Futile to mourn;

The little morn through flue of brittle cornrows

Slips

Time’s tempest none can tame

Or claim immunity to its finesse

November fans fond embers

Echoes flame…

And frame 

Spent Happiness

© Janet Martin

 November's 'embers' are hanging on for dear life but oh, their darling days are dearly numbered...

Steadfast and True

But he was pierced for our transgressions, 

he was crushed for our iniquities; 

the punishment that brought us peace was on him, 

and by his wounds we are healed.

Isa.53:5 

No matter what we think or feel

Or dare to say or do

The everlasting Word of God

Abides, steadfast and true

No matter what circumstance grants

Be it joy or dismay

The Word of God is not by chance

But is man’s hope and stay

The Word of God withstands Time’s test

Through ever-pressing tides

No matter what may come to pass

The Word of God abides

...then when we turn each sacred page

And look on He who died

Faith rests assured in spite of age

And hope is satisfied 

The Word of God is like a spring

Of Living Water poured

And as the thirsty come to drink

Their courage is restored 

Then sing; let earth ring with the joy

That God alone can give

Nothing and no one can destroy

His Words whereby we live

© Janet Martin

Isaiah 51:6
"Lift up your eyes to the sky,
Then look to the earth beneath;
For the sky will vanish like smoke,
And the earth will wear out like a garment
And its inhabitants will die in like manner;
But My salvation will be forever,
And My righteousness will not wane.

 Heaven and earth will pass away,
but my words will never pass away.

Matt.24:25

A tweaked re-run just for fun:) In Praise of Perfection In a Can...

Poetics Aside poem-a-day challenge Day 6:

For today’s prompt, write a praise poem. 

 

He wakes me up each morning

Much to my delight

He knows exactly what I need

And how to do it right

I stay a little sleepy

Until I feel his touch

His warmth flows into, through me

I love him oh, so much

 

 

Maxwell, you’re a darling

I keep you in a can

And can't wait until morning

To kiss your face of tan

Your deep and robust passion

  Ignites me to the core

And oh, I know I cannot

Live without you anymore

 

 

Love, you don’t have to worry

No one can take your place

I sip you and inhale you

With a smile upon my face

Maxwell, you’re a darling

I love your coat of blue

And in the early morning

Nobody else will do

 

Maxwell, you’re a keeper

Perfection in a can

I wonder what would happen

IF YOU WERE A MAN

 

Janet Martin