
Carl Martin Johnson
Poet, Author, Slayer of Dragons
© Carl Martin Johnson, All rights reserved
THE BUTTON
By Carl Martin Johnson
Her blue eyes squeezed and squinted
As she focused on her task.
It was not work she resented.
He had never had to ask.
Her needle’s aim was true,
Slipping through the buttonhole.
It was a pleasant thing to do,
Because to please him was her goal.
She crossed the thread to hold,
Every stitch a loving touch.
A love verse tender told.
Her heart recalled so much.
She raised the shirt to see
If she had done her work neatly.
It was as perfect as could be,
She thought to herself sweetly.
She glanced at a black-rimmed frame
Around a strong and handsome man.
And before she knew it came,
Down her cheek a teardrop ran.
With slow and tender care
She undid the thread.
Her husband was not there,
But she could see him in her head.
Time and time again
She would sew the button on
And continue to pretend
He was not really gone.
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COME DRINK MY WINE
By Carl Martin Johnson
Come, girl, drink my wine.
Take sweet loving sips.
Our smooth bodies intertwined,
The nectar spilling from your lips.
Let it intoxicate you,
Cast inhibitions to the wind.
I will celebrate you.
None can say we’ve sinned.
And we’ll oft our cup refill
With the vintage of our passion.
We will never use it up.
There is no need to ration.
It will flow freely through our veins
Into our body and our soul.
Making pleasure of our pains,
Letting ardor take control.
Lustful loving taste
There is no better flavor
No drop will we waste.
Come now, let us savor.
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KISS ME BENEATH THE AUTUMN MOON
By Carl Martin Johnson
Kiss me beneath the autumn moon,
Round butter in the sky.
Winter will be coming soon.
The days are slipping by.
You and I are growing old,
Yet young when we two kiss,
In Spring’s fresh breeze or Winter’s cold,
Or on an Autumn night like this.
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WAYWARD CHILD
By Carl Martin Johnson
I am Father’s wayward child,
Far less than He expected.
My spirit is too wild.
That cannot be corrected.
I’d be different if I could.
More to Father’s liking.
Be the angel that I should,
Rather than a modern Viking.
But I will do the best I can
With what the Father gave.
I’m not angel; I’m a man,
And that’s how I’ll behave.
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WITH MY EYES CLOSED
By Carl Martin Johnson
I see best with my eyes closed.
Then my soul’s vision’s clear
To my fellows’ hearts exposed
As they at best appear.
With love I watch the beauty there,
What humans truly are.
Each heartbeat just a gentle prayer,
Offered up to a heavenly star.
At times the hearts return my gaze.
They grace me with a smile,
Adorned with sunny glowing rays
That I bask in for a while.
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GHOST IN THE WELL
By Carl Martin Johnson
There’s a ghost in the wishing well.
I hear him call to me.
What he wants I cannot tell.
Perhaps to set him free.
But I think I will leave him there.
I can’t be sure he would be good.
He could be a ghost who likes to scare
Folks in my neighborhood.
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WHY DID YOU MAKE ME, LORD?
By Carl Martin Johnson
Why did you make me, Lord?
Am I servant, or your friend?
If you wish to be adored,
You’ve made me better than that end.
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MY ANCESTOR’S TAUNT
By Carl Martin Johnson
Come, ye war gods all!
There’s a man stands here.
You will not see me fall.
None of you I fear.
Wield your storm and lightning
Against my sword and shield.
I do not find you frightening.
You will not make me yield.
When this battle’s done,
It will not be I who ran.
You gods will not have won,
But I, this Viking Man.
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THE DEVIL’S BREATH
By Carl Martin Johnson
Fear the Devil’s breath!
Cry Havoc ‘cross the earth!
No one is spared its death,
Or the pain that gave it birth.
Bend low to the harsh blowing.
Either bend, or surely break.
Feel the power growing.
All Hell is thrown awake.
You cannot hide or run.
Its vicious gusts will find you.
There is nothing to be done,
But put sweet hope behind you.
Fall to your knees and pray
That Heaven’s angels aid you
To swiftly find your way
Back to the God Who made you.
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THAT MOON
By Carl Martin Johnson
That moon I have seen before,
Ten thousand years ago.
I thought it could be Heaven’s door,
Or a goddess’ eye aglow.
I’ve been born many times since then,
My soul from sleep to wake.
I’ve been the best and worst of men.
Lived most for living’s sake.
Much magic now from life has gone,
Many mysteries been solved.
Childlike wonder has moved on,
As price paid for Man evolved.
But that moon still pulls my soul.
I yet find wonderment there.
The soft white magic makes me whole.
That moon is still a prayer.
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STRANGER SOULS
By Carl Martin Johnson
We are united, you and I,
Though we’re not even strangers.
We won’t hear each other cry
As we face this life’s dangers.
But we’ll feel each other there,
Not knowing name or face.
Both in our Father’s care.
Both seeking His embrace.
So I greet you, unknown friend.
On the Other Side we’ll meet.
There life will have no end.
You and I will be complete.
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DROP ME, LORD
By Carl Martin Johnson
Drop me from your arms, O Lord.
You’ve carried me too long.
No need to forever be my guard.
I must now grow strong.
I am ready, Lord, to stand.
Your child’s become a man.
Let me my fate command.
Being made from you, I can.
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WHEN DID I AWAKEN
By Carl Martin Johnson
When did I awaken
From unknown pre-being?
With my first breath taken,
Did I know what I was seeing?
I have glimpsed before the womb,
Far back to my soul’s spark.
Must I wait until the tomb
To emerge fully from the dark?
I am part of something great,
Mysterious and glowing.
But I will have to wait
For Death to have the Knowing.
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