Friday, December 14, 2018

Life's Softest, Sweetest Language...(cannot be learned alone)

 I like to decorate even if life's/love's constant clutter unashamedly collects 
beneath and among 'it'😏

Life’s softest language is spoken most days
In modest mantras and familiar phrase
Nothing to canonize its common cheers
But the remembrance of fond yester-years

Life’s softest language is heard in the noise
Of everyday clatter and clutter-shaped joys
Where without it, life would seem so mundane
…going through motions of pleasure and pain

Like checking off chores on a to-do list
Longing for more than what seems to exist
Losing the laughter because of its care
Stern rigmarole of work-eat-sleep affair  

Life’s sweetest language is uttered most days
In the plain tenure of time’s age-old ways
Learning to savour the ‘stew’ in the pot
Counting life’s favours midst all that is not

Life’s sweetest poetry remains unchanged
…uphill miles, bitter grief, plans rearranged
Supper re-heated, tasks done and redone
'Sentence' repeated without annoyed tone

Working together, not pulling apart
Love’s soft, sweet language begins in the heart
It makes the difference in all that we do 
Where Love's glimpse of Heaven 
...requires at least two

© Janet Martin

This little lovable fellow has a dilemma; 
he wants the piece of cheese grandma is holding out for him but 
it means relinquishing one of his favourite toys and risking someone else taking it!!!
 And not only that; holding all three toys completely handicaps him from playing with any of them. 
Oh, the miseries of life when we want so much more than we could possibly ever need😄

(another chuckle...)
One just-turned-three year old jumped, reached tippy-toe high, somersaulted, couch-flipped, sat on a chair proudly without a booster-seat and more because,
 in his words  "I'm big now! I'm three for real!"😁

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