Round and round the Garden
I’m sure years didn’t harden
your heart

and you were strong enough
to go
through the wind and the rain.

But I know words
will never relieve
your pain.

One step
two step
unsmiling little tin soldier,

open your small rusty hand
and sing, sing, sing
this is the best way to regain

the will to breathe
the will to live
the will to love!

© Frédéric Georges Martin

starry-night

we are not
fireflies
dreaming they are
stars

we are
stars
believing they only are
fireflies

~

nous ne sommes pas
des lucioles
rêvant d’être
des étoiles

nous sommes
des étoiles
qui croient n’être que
des lucioles

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Illustration : The Starry Night, Vincent Van Gogh (1889)

Roses bloom, roses fade.
No comment.

People lie, angels cry.
No comment.

Sometimes it’s a dark Night, but God is always right.
No comment.

Dreams die, and so will I.
No comment.

Worlds disappear and so do words.
No comment.

Yet Love remains.
No comment.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

The Great Wheel

Wahoo!
We almost flew!
And the Wheel turns,
and the Heart learns.

It’s been real!
The ride does not last long,
I must admit
what stars knew all along.

Nothing lasts!
the low Tide said,
but for that moment
in the realm of the Sunset Bird,

I know waves will ever sing
the Song without any word
and the Great Wheel
will never stop spinning.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Grande roue sur la côte (France) © 2016 – F.G.M.

Est-ce lumière du soir ?
Ou lumière du matin ?
Et cette voix silencieuse,
un signe, un guide, un ange?

Océan, je m’interroge.
Etoiles, je m’émerveille.
Lumière.
Ainsi naquit le monde.

Il n’y a ni temps ni espace.
Vraie Vie, pure Grâce,
et mon coeur s’emplit de joie :
l’amour est tout, il est

notre infini.

~

Sunset, sunrise.
Which light does it resemble?
And what about this silent voice.
Is it a sign, a guide, an angel?

Ocean, I’m wondering.
Stars, you enthrall me.
Light.
And thus was born the world.

There is neither time nor space,
true Life, pure Grace,
I’m full of the joys of Spring,
love sustains everything :

it is our Infinite.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Dancing chickadees
in fragrant linden trees know
the Wind had a sister called
Snow.

Those children of Winter
were often questioning themselves
what they would become
on the first days of Spring.

November was gloomy!
December was so cold!
And they were so worried,
poor, poor children of Winter!

But their Father Sky told them
“On the first day of Spring
You’ll become a ray of Sunlight, 
fresh water, and thus lilacs will bloom…”

That is why little chickadees
dance so gracefully.
In the gardens of God
Death,

Death does not exist.

© Frédéric Georges Martin