Wednesday, March 21, 2018

March Mosaic...

Sometimes my bones ache with unwritten poetry
...until I let it loose
so, sometimes that means staying up late or staying up early;-)

Thatch patches blotch the lofty hill
That long stood poised, pristine and still
Where earth looks like a cottage roof
As March administers spring’s proof

The scraggly limbs don ruby gems
And pussy-willow diadems
Jack Frost must take his brush elsewhere
March kisses his art to thin air

The berth that holds bloom-mirth from view
Is cracked where crocuses poke through
Soon hyacinth and daffodil
Will line earth’s sky-wide windowsill

…as nature’s boulevard runs rife
With glorious whispers of new life
Where buckets tacked to maple-trees
Gather taste-bud's sweet luxuries

And though the land looks bland and dead
Beneath its heath of weathered thread
A soundless splurge of colors teems
Where earth is bursting at the seams

…and dreamers bare their muffled necks
Stretch like fat cats on sun warmed decks
And answer to the dancer’s call
Where March makes minstrels of us all

© Janet Martin

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

March Music

Where seasons strum the countryside
We gladden at time’s turn of tide
When twilight waits an hour more
Before it executes its chore
Of dimming awnings overhead
And tucking drowsy day to bed
After we tread the dusky lane
Heady with spring daydreams again
Where buds wait to break woodland spells
And toll earth's soul with nature’s bells
While we wander its burnished sheen
Poised on the brink of pink and green
Of unbarred brooks and violet nooks
As March unveils sweet second looks
And graces places long denied
As springtime strums the countryside

© Janet Martin

Tower of Courage

There really are no words to fully capture the hurt of a sorrowing mother
aching for a child that is no more...
Other mothers hug her close
then return home to hug their beloved family closer... longer.

Loss...the flip-side of having held!

She bows where death has redefined
Love-sorrow-strength soft intertwined
And in her eyes the tender hurt
For one which lies beneath the dirt
Where none but God tallies her tears
That kiss the sod of yester-years

…she bows beneath yet holds the hand
Of He who helps her feet to stand
Where nothing can restore the dreams
That death has claimed too soon it seems
As through a power, not her own
She finds the courage to press on

© Janet Martin

(The word she in this poem can be changed to 'he')
this is not intended to undermine a father's sorrow
but, because I'm a mom I see through the eyes of a mother.

Happy-happy, Happy-happy, Happy-happy SPRING!

 We did it! We weathered another winter!
Here's to all things yellow, 

like sunshine,


 and dandelions!

Dawn’s first fair fronds fade from the east like flowers felled at frost
Each season spreads earth with a feast for eyes, then comes the sting
Where moments brim with virgin vim then dim; but time’s sure cost
Reciprocates colossal, annual losses with spring

Then bow to the Creator whose splendor no one exceeds
Where braggarts soon deplete their store of self-aggrandizing
Not so with He who cups masterpieces in buds and seeds
And ravishes earth’s winter-skeletal remains with spring

Oh, leap for joy; come, girl and boy, release the inner child
So what if somersaults and cartwheels are but shadow-art
Spring to the world is like the soul set free and laughter-wild
Ah, spring to earth is like God’s grace to winters of the heart

Beneath the funereal facade of winter-spent, ah, hark
Methinks I hear the giggle of a garden snickering
Where hallelujah rends the fabric of day’s too-long-dark
And sparks the song that wakes the waltz that sweeps us into spring

© Janet Martin

'Janet, when will the leaves fall' 
asked Little Girl yesterday.
Well, I replied, a little startled at first!
First, in spring, they hatch from the bud into beautiful children, oops, I mean leaves
 then they bloom like green-teen-twenty-thirty-something flowers all dearest summer long...
 before they fall in autumn when frost on the brow, oops I mean field fells everything...
(Actually my answer was abbreviated to more of a spring-bud, summer-bloom, fall-fall answer😀)

Monday, March 19, 2018


 My sister Marlene and I were talking about how hard it is to read Easter-themed pieces without tears!
(and that makes it hard to volunteer to read at an Easter Service:)
But, we concluded, they are worthy tears...
Jesus shed tears for us.
Oh, pray we shed tears for Him!

(a few more favorite Easter Songs)

Stirred by the wounds You wore, my Lord and bore on my behalf
Because I was part of the crowd; Loud, proud, I jeered-leered-laughed

While You in gruesome horror hung in grueling agony
‘Til the last breath of life was wrung from You, my Lord, for me

You groaned beneath the thorny crown pressed hard upon Your head
Where death’s deliverance poured down until the ground was red

…and though I’ve wept, “Lord, I belief, now help my unbelief”
And though I love you, oh my Lord, of sinners I am chief

…for oft-times I’m still such a jerk and blind, as blind can be
More dedicated to my work and play, my Lord, than Thee

And then I weep, Jesus, I weep ; You knew the full extent
Of promises I would not keep, still, to the cross You went

And staggered up the skull-strewn slope beneath the awful weight
Not of the wooden cross-hewn Hope, but of ignorant hate

“Forgive them for they do not know” oh Lord, my Lord, You cried
As we slammed nails into your hands and spears into your side

And though wrongly accused, My Lord you answered not a word
But naked, torn and bruised You bore the sins of the whole world

...stirred by the scars You wear my Lord, because of Calvary
Where now Heaven is my reward through what You did for me then I weep; without You I’m unworthy to the core
..But, because of You someday I will live forevermore

© Janet Martin