Like A Poet's Blank Page

 Daybreak-sky fabric was my favorite shade of denim etched in gold...

(photo does not do the real Thing justice)

New day, like a poet’s blank page

Beckons from ether reams

Where bouts of grief and gladness wage

Their wars twixt chores and dreams

To try the warrior of want

With tests to tame the tongue

Where deed alone will prove the font

Of words so aptly flung

Soon Time will tell the total truth

As Choice collects its pay

Where The Unraveler of youth

Takes not one holiday

And not one maestro is immune

And not one bard forgot

The poet’s most passionate tune

Thwarts nothing with ink-jot

…save here and there a sudden storm

For love is bitter-sweet

And sadness can be lithe of form

But heavy with defeat (Du’ feet)

And Hope for all its heaven-sent/scent

Is sometimes hard to feel

Where hunger scores the mortal bent

That poems help to heal

Where new day sets its virgin yen

Before thought’s wondering eye

The fire in The Poet’s Pen

Ignites the ink-well sky

And from the sum that waits to be

Life starts to fill the page

Soft-shaping into poetry

What grief and gladness wage

© Janet Martin

Sense-ations

The roof-tops touch the sky

The sky grazes the street

And in each snowflake skimming by

I sense the dance of feet

The pine-tree minstrel plays

Soft, spectral violins

And in the serenade it splays

I sense a song of grins

Winter’s rowdy rogues brawl

On plush and pulsing seams

Where, even in the thickest squall

I sense the rush of streams

This tantrum none can quell

Or tame the tempest's will

Yet on the wild and frigid fell

I sense a daffodil

White, rolls the countryside

White tolls most ev’rything

Still, even in this white-world wide

I sense the green of spring

© Janet Martin

Blizzard Ballad

 (Hubby's truck is not stuck literally but safely 'stuck' in Guelph; load delivered.)

Thoughts are with everyone doing double-shifts in hospitals, nursing homes, etc! 

Emily worked the early/day shift yesterday and got home just as it started. So thankful,

but can't help thinking of those who wish they were home but are staying to fill a need.

God bless all the second-mile soldiers!

Earth is a truck-is-stuck, beauty-struck haze

Tucked beneath knee-deep wires-down duvets

Home is a haven of warmth; favourite nooks

Stoked, quilted, woven and bettered with books

Happiness sips, stirs, hums, hugs, hopes and prays

For not everyone gets ‘blizzard-holidays’

Double-shift soldiers push, pull, shovel, shove   

Because nothing is colder than need without love

Tea kettles whistle, simmer, sing and smile

Poured into cups of joy; mint, chamomile

Art is a window that frames woolly gust

Thrilling the poet and vexing wanderlust

Hush-a-bye, restless eye, plush sky is felled

Heaven and earth in white-out mayhem meld

The road is deserted; no rushing of cars

No one can rein in a tsunami of stars

© Janet Martin

 Art is a window that frames woolly gust...

...And then, With Something Soft and Fierce

There is nothing darker than the window of the soul without hope

There is nothing brighter than the window of the soul where hope streams through the dark

many of us feel helplessly sickened as we hear the cold awful truths about abortion...

where hope is looking in all the wrong places and resorts to the hands of killers
who somehow see themselves as hope!

...no soft newborn baby-faces to kiss because life's reality looks hopeless without God!

Our family is gearing up for more newborn baby kisses in a month...(Lord willing!)

and the idea of killing a baby at this stage of pregnancy 

simply sickens me to the utter core of existence!
(I saw a video last night where this was the case😢)

(we all feel like this sometimes, don't we? after we've tried and tried to stay on our feet

.... But life is a sheet of ice!)

and as I loved and laughed yesterday...

.... I couldn't help but think of the millions of babies 

who fly straight to the Arms of their Maker beneath the hands of human monsters
which we all potentially are before Love's/salvation's transformation takes place and hope has a goal!

Hebrews 6:18
Thus by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, 

we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be strongly encouraged.

2 Timothy 2:13
if we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.

…and then with something soft and fierce and stronger than mere touch

The wick within the warrior’s chest is quickened with a flame

That withstands The Impossible of what is seen and such

As hope restores its fire through the One from whence we came

For nothing is Impossible with He who rules the World

In spite of scoffing ridicule by those who do not choose

To trust love’s just Rewarder who, recorded in His Word

Does not forget His promises or alter ordained dues

Holy the hope that heeds more than man’s maimed advocacy

And clings to cords not severed yet while lords of evil gloat

Unshakeable, unbreakable, the Law and love of He

Who has triumphed and yet waits while hope keeps Time’s ship afloat

Do not despair for hope beams brightest in the darkest place

Ignorance with most macho boast cannot Hope’s halo dim

Abortionists and atheists cannot slaughter God’s grace

Inhale, exhale, life pulses with the Very Proof of Him

Man, though he snuffs the breath of life cannot conquer the soul

No man can author birth for God alone wills life to be

And death, the equalizer of the flesh is but the toll

Where Hope of Heaven, dread of hell becomes Reality

…then, Hope is nothing more than cold ash after fires flamed

Its grand mission accomplished as the heart of man is stilled

When some will see too late the awful fate of Hope unclaimed

And some will thrill as Hope in all its glory is fulfilled

© Janet Martin

Something To Ever Strive Toward...True Love

Love is livin’

like the givin’

is the reason for it all

Keeps no record

or a placard

lest pride goes before the fall

Knowin’ Someone

up in Heaven

sees the most important part

Not the ration

or the fashion

but the spirit of the heart

© Janet Martin