Wednesday, February 14, 2018

A Valentine Verse



For all the years of you and I
Through joy or trouble's weather
I'm glad for words like side-by-side
Like 'us'; words like, 'together'

I'm glad that you and I makes 'we'
a sense of true belonging
how lonely and sad life would be
Without words like 'we', darling

Then should the Unknown spill its sky
In sun or stormy weather
As long as there is you-and-I
We'll weather it together

Janet~



I Love You Too



Happy Valentine's Day!

Here is a funny favorite love song of mine by Tom T. Hall 



‘I love you too’, what better words exist?
The glad reply to love’s said sentiment
It tempers want and wishing’s discontent
And leaves us feeling fully hugged and kissed

‘I love you’ by itself is bittersweet
Though its three words are beautiful, tis true
Until we hear four words, ‘I love you too’
Then, only then is love’s gladness complete

Like skies that never wear their bluest blue
Like hands that never give back what they take
Or hearts that never heal of longing’s ache
Is ‘I love you’ without ‘I love you too’

Then pray, as long as there is me-and-you
Before love is a sad so-long unfurled
We often speak three best words in the world
To stir its four best words; I love you too

© Janet Martin

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Canadian Hope-Spring






The bank cold-heaped where storm-wind blows
Will soon be steeped in golden snows
Of wild primrose and butter-weed
And winter-hours gone to seed

© Janet Martin

February's Summer Dusk




While looking for another photo I found these, 
transporting me from the growling g-r-r-r of B-r-r-r!! 
to h-m-m-m of Summer M-m-m-m!

When winds shake the world in jowls, churlish and brusque
I sing me a ditty of gold summer dusk
Of kitty-soft vesper ‘neath velveteen skies
Of starlight like diamonds in love’s laughing eyes
Of plush, purple pillows on lush, lowered eaves
Where feather-frond willows strum heaven’s plum sheaves
And hillsides grow sleepy while whispers undo
Their clamor of color with layers of blue

I sing of the things that make summer kings glad
Like rainbows of zinnia, the grin of a lad
With fists full of wiggle and squiggle and dirt
While wily wars trouble time’s bubble with hurt
And we do our best to shoulder Westward’s weight
Where summer dusk opens its ethereal gate
And slips through the trusses of dust-sweet so-long
Of musky caresses and dew-dappled gong

…of rock-a-bye rivers that rush to the sea
Of lull-a-sigh quivers in yon poplar tree
Of ballads where nothing but air plucks the strings
Where baby-dear slumbers and mother-dear sings
And flower-lid droops, its ambrosial grail
A-readied for honey-bee’s wake-up wassail
So, let the wind howl; a churl, burly and brusque
He can’t reach the girl lost in sweet summer dusk

© Janet Martin

Poem-Schooner





This February morn let’s stroll the countryside, my sweet
Where dandelions laugh like bobbing sunbeams at our feet
Dawn rolls across yon shoreline in a tide of blush and gold
Let’s sit on morning’s front-row seat to watch time’s bloom unfold

Let’s step beyond the shiver-sheen of shoveled walks and such
The velveteen of spring’s first green is easy to the touch
And we are not as far-off as we were from flowered clime
Where poem is a schooner we can board without a dime

…and if we please, we’ll sail the turquoise seas of mid-July
Or afternoon of em’rald June spread beneath sapphire sky
Let’s lure from winter’s white on white an arbor, rose-entwined
A bare-foot rendezvous through meadow lanes wild blue-strife lined

This February morn is like a schooner summer-bound
Then hop on board and praise the Lord for gardens underground
Where nothing stays the same for long above an undertow
That soon strips Old Man Winter’s song of words like ‘cold’ and ‘snow’

© Janet Martin


I'm not rushing winter, but every once in a while its nice to 
climb aboard a poem-ship and sail to warmer scenes
...every once in a while its nice to be reminded
under winter-cold white waits summer-warm greens! 
Instead of boots, flip-flops, 
instead of parkas,
parks filled with laughter of children 
going up, up, up to the blue sky in a swing!



Monday, February 12, 2018

God's Art Gallery

It was Awesome!
 Like stepping into a gallery filled with Masterpieces,
as I stepped outdoors this morning to enjoy a coffee while waiting for Little Girl to arrive...
The snow sparkled so intensely one could almost hear it!

Earth’s canvas of four-season sweep
Is day-by-day bequeathed
Where art that grips our deepest deep
Is always heaven-breathed

It paints a poem without words
Soothes scads of discontent
Where art that leaves the heart most stirred
Is always heaven-lent

God makes us gladder than we were
In nature’s gallery
Where art, no brush can quite procure
Grants heaven-glints for free

© Janet Martin


Reminds me of this song I learned as a child!




With What We Have...

Do you ever get tired of the same cook-and bake-scenery, wishing for fresh ideas to shake things up? 
Does it seem like, in spite of a rainbow of choices we end up with 'faithful spud' thudding our cooking pot (partly because no one ever says 'ew! what's this?!:) to a potato?
Well, dear cook in the kitchen of life,
welcome to a meander through an orchard of delicious possibilities and nostalgia!
Meet Rose, who makes everyone feel at home in her corner of the world
 as she shares recipes, reflections, and snap-shots of nostalgia! 
This is my attempt at Blueberry-lemon Muffins from her latest post.
Because I didn't have muffin liners mine look a little different from hers. 
I topped them with cinnamon sugar instead of the butter and sugar-dip suggested in the recipe, 
 so they could cool a little more before removing them from the pan. 

 Enjoy your choices today!
We may not always be able to choose the 'ingredients' we are handed in life
but we always choose how we use them!

With what I have, Lord make me glad
And not inclined to pine
Because of something someone had
That I wish would be mine

With what we have, Lord, make us fit
To touch the charge You grant
And never sit and pout a bit
In hopeless pits of ‘can’t

With who we are, Lord, make us brave
Lest we miss out on what we have
While wishing on a star

With what we have, Lord, help us choose
To serve its purpose well
Before the dimming of gold-blues
Where twilight’s shadow fell

© Janet Martin