Tuesday, May 4, 2021

Cradled...

 

Pease excuse the unartistic flaws of the drawing below
...it vaguely mirrors the image in my mind




Morning murmurs in mist tresses
Tints earth’s eastward fringe, flushed bronze
Draws the darkness from hushed meadows
As the shadows melt, day dawns

Morning metes Time’s maiden voyage
Always today is untried
Into the Unknown, life’s passage
Rolls from morn to eventide

Morning is God’s mercy-token
Great, the faithfulness of He
Who does not leave us forsaken
He knows all we cannot see

Morning, flings ajar barred/starred shutters
Daylight sweeps o’er sea and sod
Unfolding uncharted waters
Cradled in the hands of God

© Janet Martin

Deut.31:6 NIV
Be strong and courageous. 
Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, 
for the Lord your God goes with you; 
he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Isa.43:2 NLT
When you go through deep waters,
    I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
    you will not drown.
When you walk through the fire of oppression,
    you will not be burned up;
    the flames will not consume you.



Monday, May 3, 2021

Already Breath-taken

 




Already breath-taken
Ere buds fully waken
And silence is broken
By leaf-token’s laud
Already dumbfounded
By beauty unbounded
For we are surrounded
By glimpses of God

Already enchanted
By blooms, still unplanted
And tree-tops half-glistered
In whispers green-gold
Already delighted
By dreams unrequited
Yet we are excited
To watch them unfold

Already forgotten
Winter’s frigid cotton
And battles we fought in
A world, cold and white
Already forgiven
The green side of livin’
Rolls out to blue heavens
In sighs of delight

© Janet Martin







Hooray for May or May Minuet

 For as the earth brings forth its bud...







In Ontario buds are on the brink of bursting into glorious hallelujah...
We watch, already breath-taken by the prelude!

Bright bolts of flower-fabric unfurl with flamboyant flare
Where emerald backdrops emanate from worlds, long bleak and bare
The woodland, draped in olive haze of lacy filigree
Beckons both feathered busker and bumbling humanity

Where mercy’s favor is renewed the farmer plants the field
He labours yet must learn to lean on He who grants the yield
Lord pray, first green will burst with gold and gold with harvest hymn
As earth becomes a fountain where bud and seedling-hope brim

Now garden dreams run rampant like a stream after spring-show’rs
Forgotten are the aches and pains of toil’s back-breaking hours
Where mosaics of morrow’s posies bloom in flawless form
And culinary conceptions take thought’s tastebuds by storm

Wild apple-orchards dapple hillsides in pastel chiffon
Like ballerinas poised to twirl as the music turns on
And we all become boys and girls, in heart if not in skin
As May melts chill winds with romance of sunbeam’s dance and grin

May’s Masterpiece Creator dazzles sweeps of sky and sod
Mankind, the awed spectator strolls art-galleries by God
The wonder-pangs that Beauty both kindles and satisfies
Since time began grants glimpses of a Perfect Paradise

Three cheers for May, a pansy-lilac-hyacinth-hooray
A sit-a-bit and take a quick half-aft-noon holiday
To drink the ink of poetry not snared on pages yet
To watch while earth becomes a stage for nature’s minuet

© Janet Martin

Isa.61:11
For as the earth brings forth its bud,
As the garden causes the things that are sown in it to spring forth,
So the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise 
to spring forth before all the nations.


(reminds me of sunbeams, breezes, butterflies and blossoms)



Sunday, May 2, 2021

Of Season-Spectrum


Let no one despise you for your youth,
but set the believers an example 
in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.

Happy 23rd Birthday, Matt!

We love the laughter your sense of humour brings to our home
 as well as your conscientious attitude to life!
Wishing you God's guidance and blessing in the year ahead!


Photo Credit; Brittany Ruppert


The spectrum of a season swiftly sweeps from now to then
The boys and girls of Good Old Days become women and men
The dreamlands of sweet childhood clash with brash reality
As fruit begins to emerge on green branches of the tree

Accountability begins to replace innocence
What was footloose and fancy-free now demands diligence
And where the air once wore the cheers of ‘no more school, hooray’
The student starts to learn that lessons take no holiday

...where shoes too large for little feet to fit, suddenly do
As boys and girls of Good Old Days shoulder life’s ‘Nothing New’
‘Remember your Creator then, in the days of your youth
So that you may be able to discern well what is truth’

Because the spectrum of a seasons soon loses its sheen
Branches become set in their ways, that once were limber-green
And harvest that seemed far off starts to render its return
Where a new age of Innocence waits eagerly, to learn


© Janet Martin


Saturday, May 1, 2021

Word Percolator...(written while the coffee brewed:)

 

We pour water into a coffee percolator and out comes yummy, black coffee
We pour all matter of material into our minds and out come all manner of words!



We set words free yet in a sense we take them with us too
For new words always percolate where former words dripped through
But if used wisely words can change the course of someone’s day (just like a good cup of coffee😋)
And in a sense, a life, as kind words cheer us on our way

Think gently then, for thoughts are always on the verge of speech
Who knows how far the ripple of its spoken touch will reach
To teach, to tear, to build, to break, how swift our words become
A hug, a blow; therefore fill well the fount they will flow from

© Janet Martin

Psalm 19:14
Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, 
be acceptable in thy sight, 
Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.

Friday, April 30, 2021

Good-bye Is a Gateway...

 PAD Challenge day 30:For today's prompt, write a goodbye poem.


Adios Amigo






We pave the path to aftermath with joy and sorrow’s tears
How fleeting is the filigree that weaves whispers to years
Where hello always turns to farewell far too soon it seems
And we are always learning how to readjust our dreams

I love the way life dishes out surprise; I hate it too
The color of goodbye flows in a thousand shades of blue
Where nothing new under the sun still stuns us all the same
And time will always be a rebel that no one can tame

Darling, let’s take the long, slow way to farewell’s parting kiss
I know we both knew from the start that it would end like this
But we are poets; life runs wild with opportunity
Thus good-bye is a gateway to tomorrow’s odyssey

© Janet Martin

 

 

Country Clothesline Contentment



My sister called this morning.
she needed a country clothesline poem😘😊


This can be one long poem or four short!
It is written from the passer-by's vantage-point


Something ‘bout a country-clothesline
makes a body feel content
Happiness sparked by the flutter
of sun-kissed accomplishment
Where the carefree waltz of towels
tossed against the big blue sky
Seems to sing a home-sweet chorus
to the winsome passerby

***

Something ‘bout a country clothesline
speaks of domesticity
An appealing, ageless hallmark
of a happy family
Of dear father and kind mother,
dash and dance of girls and boys
In a hymn of meek thanksgiving
for sunshine and simple joys

***

Something ‘bout a country clothes-line
feels like endurance unfurled
Images of rural living
grounded in a changing world
Framed in blue sky without borders,
cotton rainbows pirouette
Kindling a sweet, kinship-feeling
with friends we have never met

***

Something ‘bout a country clothesline
speaks of honest, humble folk
They, the kind that do not mind
a bit of wholesome dirt and work
And though, not hon’rably mentioned
in the list of finer arts
Something ‘bout a country clothesline
captivates both gaze and hearts

© Janet Martin

Thursday, April 29, 2021

Twilight Tableau

 PAD Prompt 29: For today's prompt, write an evening poem. 




The rush of morning-tide to dusk softens its color-show
The artist picks a velvet brush to paint twilight’s tableau
With coral hues and purple-blues, and periwinkle tulle
The edges of the earth are tucked beneath night’s crepuscule
With kiss and hug he bids each sleepy fledgling sweet goodnight
Then dabs a curve of silver, crescent moon as a nightlight

© Janet Martin