Showing posts with label Derek Ryan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Derek Ryan. Show all posts

Thursday, October 31, 2019

Autumn Late-day Rain-rhapsody


 October's exit is wild and windy!!!
Hold on to your hat!




Wrote this poem while cooking supper as I watched eventide roll/blow in!

Cornstalk-candelabras etched 
on backdrops of grey crepe
Maple-leaf mosaics pressed 
into fall’s grand escape
Rush of silver runnels hiss 
beneath wheels homeward bound
Wind wears holes through woodland’s 
whispers falling to the ground

Autumn's petal-pandemonium
 holds strange allure
Suddenly we want to join them 
on their farewell tour
Early dark is seeping in like 
high-tide, splash by splash
Freeways sparkle like 
a gold and ruby rhinestone sash

Simple supper smells like 
something special (and it is)
Happiness simmers in pots 
and pan-fried promises
Home, however humble feels 
imperfectly complete
Meek prayers burst with pity 
for the pauper on the street

Oft, how oft our eyes are drawn 
to what is fading fast
Like first light that births each dawn 
begins to shape the past
Like the melody that drips 
from seas without a shore
Like the sting of salty stars 
that slip and are no more

© Janet Martin

(I could not post a what's-for-supper blog last Thursday due to helping at a funeral all day)

 This Thursday-what's-for-supper post is one of those non-recipe meals...
brown your beef, add your pick of veggies
(tonight's veggies, green peppers, parsley, garlic, red and white onion)
cook till veggies are almost tender then add tomato-sauce. (I use the one I linked to)
Heat till bubbly then serve on steamed thinly sliced cabbage instead of spaghetti! yummy.

Friday, February 8, 2019

Befitted for Love


 Love trades duty for honor
Love remembers to ask
Love's kind and gracious Author
To fit us for its task

Two little girls, the same size with the same names
are 'enjoying' same nap-times😀
...well, one is. the other one is making way too much noise to qualify as napping:)
(who knew love could be SO exhausting)
on their part and mine!
They are both kept quite busy 'borrowing' toys from each other
 and I am kept busy trying to sort what is who's!
But two not-even-two-yet girlies are pretty easy to convince
with another  'toy-bribe'
Time for a quick poem-coffee-break before #3 arrives.
#3 is all of two and boasts the title Grandson so
the dynamics change a bit just because when
you're all of 2 years + a month toy-bribes don't work as well anymore;
esp. at Grandma's house where he is the super-star!😊
Ah life! love!

One of the toy-bribes...inspired by Aiken Drum !

The quiet eye of heart and soul
With wily want and will to weigh
Rivals with noise of common toll
Where fact and fancy war and play
To teach thought’s vision to behold
*‘Midst gales of gray, hope’s glints of gold

Tell me, is ever time enough
To learn all that we ought to know
It seems to me life’s fist-a-cuff
Is always poised to wield a blow
Whilst we, with black eye, bloody lip
Brace for love’s next face-plant or trip

The mind is more than it may seem
Thought’s powerhouse produces touch
It harbours with its darling dream
The slyer skill of schemes and such
Where no one is immune to fear
Or the tempter’s impulsive leer

This dust we stir is soon subdued
A blur entombed in history
Where not one footstep can intrude
To rearrange time’s estranged spree
While love alone makes worth the leap
Twixt birth and death’s eternal sleep

The quiet eye of heart and soul
The mighty powerhouse of mind
Would be a futile rigmarole
With only havoc left behind
But for the humble servant’s prayer
To befit us for love’s warfare

© Janet Martin

*right now we are having gales of gray with no glints of gold!




Sometimes by Friday, life's noise sounds louder 
and good intention's poise is wobbly at best.
Thank-you God for your wise order 
of 'six days work' 
then a day of rest!

Today's wind has me humming this tune😁
 



Wednesday, April 11, 2018

A Sure Thing


They say in life there are only two sure things; death and taxes.
Well, it's tax season!
The time of year we must account for earnings and losses...
of dollars that is!
The other Account comes after the Other Sure Thing...

 So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.
Ah, here is moral ground on which to establish Truth,,,



It hurts and heals, it lends and steals
It tears and mends and molds
The best of life and worst of life
Into elusive folds

It breaks the bread of living
Into crumbs soft-swept away
And keeps us always on the verge
Of Almost Yesterday

It foists on boist’rous gait, the weight
Of an Unseen Offing
The After-death, Doubters debate
The dying; A Sure Thing

A beast that feasts on moments, oh,
We pet and stroke its fur
A love-hate, touch-taste, hold-let-go
That leads to for-ev-er

A poet with a pen called Breath
Authors life's requiem (rek-wee-uh m)
Where what we do with what we have
Will be its total sum

© Janet Martin

Until this morning I thought the word requiem rhymes with the word dream or hymn
but I decided to double-check, just in case!
Did you know it's a three-syllable word ending with the um sound?!
OH!!! what new rhyming possibilities have just been born in this poem-lorn brain😄


Friday, January 22, 2016

When Time Will Cease to Be



It's that time of year, tax-season... when we take inventory and prepare our paper-work for the accountant etc.
I'm glad we don't need to go back to God over and over to 'settle our account' with Him! 
But, though the account is settled, there will be a great accounting yet where what was done in secret will be made known...



This live-laugh-love
This have-hold glove
This give-and-take melee
Is the life we
Will account for
When Time will cease to be

© Janet Martin

Inspired by this...

Friday, January 1, 2016

Dear 2016





Your days a-wait beyond a gate we cannot trace with eyes
Nor spell what scenes convene where now we guess with hopeful sighs
At melodies and memories that waft soft on the air
Not rendered yet; dear year ahead, I pray we tread with care
…this unblemished appointing that you lay beneath our feet
Like midnight snow anointing earth with fresh and unmarred street

Your uprightness and downrightness and forthwithness abides
Hinged to what none can change you spill Time’s will in virgin tides
Dear year, I pray we treat each day like a prize, rare and fine
Before it melts like midnight snow in morning-gold sunshine
And when the tide goes out, as we ponder its garnered days
Pray what we see will be a testament of humble praise

…to He who sifts and grants through grace-scarred hands these centuries
Who breathes upon the bud and breaks to bloom cupped mysteries
Who tends what He kind-lends; dear year, I pray your aftermath
Will be within our memory, a smile; a precious path
In thought’s embrace and as we trace the echoes that remain
Pray, as your tide recedes we did not live your days in vain

© Janet Martin

Last night we watched the year come in at my brother Dave's house 
These celebrations often include music because we are a family of listen-to-the-words music lovers and he told me he thinks I will love this song and I do,
and oh, I love the singer too. What a voice!
This is a good song to begin the new year and remind us that life is a river...Lets cherish each twinkle on its tide...