There Will Be Roses...( Contemplating a New Year Poem)

Farewell, old year!What a volume to retireAnd place on a shelf in the heart(Though not without tears for the tears it holds)Hope Immortal cheers us onwardNewness, eager to inspireBids us close gently The Book of Has Been.And ready faith to receiveA volume, fresh and clean.Tonight, I will reach out my hand and take it,  not with trembling dread and fearBut with trust because the Giver (and Taker)Is the Lord, and He is always near... Ps.145:18The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted; He saves the contrite in spirit. Seek the LORD while He may be found; call on Him while He is near. A Short Reflection First...(before loosening the poetic rein andTossing restraint to the wind) Quite Enough What was, is yester-loveWhat waits, no one can tellWhat is, my dear, is quite enoughWith which to live life well What was wafts beyond reachWhat waits to be, who knows?Today grants quite enough to teachAnd keep love on its toes What was, fills Bygone's troveWhat waits, no one can seeToday is quite enough, my loveTo make a memory What was, is like spilled inkWhat waits, no wish can bind What is, is quite enough, I think To keep us humbly kind Janet Martin There will be roses to tickle our nosesTo soothe the mean sting of love’s thornThere will be beauty to cheer common dutyServed on a buffet of new mornPurply-whispered and silvery-glisteredDells filled with forget-me-notMoments that thunder with worship-wild wonderAnd moments oft lived and forgot There will be gladness to counter grief’s sadnessCheering love’s tear-weary wakeThere will be sorrows still veiled by tomorrowsStill cradled in hope’s holy acheThere will be flowers and summer-dusk showersFine pleasures, like spring’s chuckling brooksMaple-sweet toffee and cups of fresh coffeeBird-song, a new ‘favorite book’ There will be kindness and self-centered blindnessStrolls through green, rolling countrysidePrecious occasion for sweet celebrationProud groom and young bride, starry-eyedHumble submission to dream’s un-fruitionHairpin sharp, hard-left learning curvesBegging for pardon and tea in the garden*And Housewife-meets-mouse frazzled nerves There will be mending of fences and tendingTo tasks only noted when missedPlan-rearranging, and hearts that need changingSweet babies-dear, cuddled and kissedBack-breaking labour and helping our neighborThen soaking spent bones in warm sudsPrayer-bent desires and crackling campfiresMarshmallow-s’mores, famine and floods Lunches with sisters, and blind-dates as MistersAnd Misses-es search for soulmatesThere will be singing and earth’s belfries ringingWith music only God createsThere will be bruises and ‘emptied oil cruses’Trust-lessons in the face of needThere will be trouble aboard time’s brief bubbleTo test and grow faith’s mustard seed There will be struggle and pink honeysucklePeaches, pears, apples and plumsTwilight’s chin dripping with End of Day slippingTo Past’s un-trespass-able sumsJoyful surprises and coral sunrisesPuppies, both naughty and niceFarmers that whistle till good humours bristleAt some revised, sky-high jacked price There will be much care pioneering much prayer‘Our Father who art in heaven’Then, there will be peace as we learn to releaseThe onus of the petitionThere will be dead ends, far and near old, new friendsAnd endless opportunityAnd holiest holes in the silk of our soulsBy much-missed loved one's memory There will be fumbles, unflattering stumbles (ugh)Thanksgiving-humbled supplicantsFor no one is able to set repast's tableWithout what God’s goodness first grantsThere will be winners and warmed over dinnersBecause someone had to work lateThere will be faux pas and awed hallelujahsAnd hot temper fueled debate There will be bills, and *hearty laughter that spillsLife’s very best of medicineMany a reason to treasure each seasonNo matter what season we’re inThere will be losses, and triumphs and crossesOf ineffable tragediesEchoes soft-haunting a future found wantingThere will be cricket-symphonies While mommies and daddies, grampies and grammiesNeed wisdom God's word will giveTo guide explaining while sacredly trainingA child in the way he should liveMidst messes and muddles and big shiny puddlesLuring little feet to its thrillsThere will be stories of hardship and gloriesAll hinged upon ‘if the Lord wills’ © Janet Martin ** the starred lines unfolded during thecomposing of this poem... The first one needs no explanation; 'mouse' says it all!The second was inspired by my mother who called while I was gathering this poem and she said something rather cute that struck my funny boneand when she realized I was wheezing with laughter she started laughing tooand we both laughed till we cried,And we agreed; Laughter is truly the best medicine. James 4:15Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.” (lyrics below) Step by step, take my hand and lead me, My Guide, my Light. (German) So nimm denn meine Hände und führe mich Bis an mein selig Ende und ewiglich! Ich kann allein nicht gehen, nicht einen Schritt; Wo Du wirst gehn und stehen, da nimm mich mit. O take my hand and lead me, my Guide, my Light, My path is rough and narrow in life's dark night. Your hand will safely hold me through night and day, You are my true companion, O with me stay. You cover me with mercy and cleanse my heart, Your goodness fills my being in every part. And with Your hand to guide me I'm not alone. Your presence lights my pathway until I'm at Home. As step by step we travel to reach the goal, Our songs of faith will echo and feed my soul. So take my hand and lead me until I see The heav'n where You receive me eternally.