Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Life Is Poetry Waiting To Be Written or Eaten!!


The endless possibilities of garden-fresh fare
is pure culinary poetry!
So worth the toil 
when the soil is rich 
and the rain is plentiful
and the roots thrive!)
Makes the humble laborer
So glad to be alive!

Yesterday my neighbor dropped of a pint of raspberries
so I texted the clan and let them know 
there is a surprise dessert at Emily's house
for anyone wo can make it...
Cornstarch Pudding topped with raspberries and whipped cream

'or as the garden spills with fare and thrills the happy cook'



I had picked the currants just before leaving for the special Dessert evening so
this morning's question was,
What to do with a bowl full of black currants?





Beets are constantly being thinned...


(I used white onion instead of shallots)





Before the ink of one is dry another starts to brew
As surely as you catch my eye or as the sky is blue
Or as a bud bursts into bloom or a bird into song
Or morning into blush-brushed light and night into so-long

As surely as the cricket hails the middle of July
Or as a season scales the height of a year slipping by
Or as the colour of its cast crescendos ere it fades
Or as the valour of the past augments its promenades

As surely as love holds and must let go, ready or not
As surely as a sense of sorrow stirs a tender thought
Or as a breeze rolls through treetops like waves on lofty seas
Or as a pang of longing tugs at World of Memories

As surely as tomorrow is forever held at bay
Or as a surge of gratitude steals humbled breath away
Or as the flicker of a lily showcases the sun
Or as the shadow climbs the hill where one more day is done

...or as kerplop of a raindrop ignites a giddy dance
As dust devils are tamed and liquid diamonds lavish plants 
Or as a summer afternoon entangled in heartstrings
Wakens awareness to the whir of time's gossamer wings 

...or as the garden spills with fare and thrills the happy cook
Or as the tea is poured and feet pulled up, nose in a book
*Or as the gladness of a child hearkens to childhoods spent
Or as the ilk of life runs wild with laughter and lament 

As surely as the green of spring turns summer bronze and gold
Or as delight is overcome with wonders to behold
Or as the grace of God ignites a rush of poetry
Before the ink of one is dry, another starts to be

© Janet Martin

*It was so amusing to watch my grandchildren wild with excitement and curiosity
hovering at the 'Mystery Dessert (hiding in a big bowl with a lid)
while we waited till everyone was there to start.
...made me relive a little of my own long-lost childhood.
Oh, the excitement of out-of-the-blue guests and surprises. 
Esp. surprises you could eat!!

Wild with delight...

We could literally write a little book right now entitled
'If Big Brother Can Do It
So Can I!!'😅😂💗



Wednesday, July 12, 2023

July-High or Season of Sweet Summertime

 Some summer/ July 'highs/highlights'...

Freshly-picked supper!


Yesterday's Lunch!


'Where every flower-dear is fair of face...'


'And every shower-dear a gift from God'


Freshly-popped lily!

And Queen Ann decks herself in finest lace




And Daisy dares with ‘loves-me-loves-me-not’


Living’s unrivaled adrenaline rush
Beauty unbridled in sequence sublime
Colorful cadence of hymns, petal-plush
This is the season of Sweet Summertime

Breeze tousles treetops, stirs leafy-green sighs
Porches are perches for popsicle-snacks
Meadows are churches beneath smiling skies
Earthy pews bid worshippers to relax

Arbors are lavished with vine-woven lace
Gardens are ravished with vegetable-fare
Nothing in summer is quite commonplace
Pity the one who has no time to spare

No time to lie with ear pressed to the throb
In nature’s chest; let it soothe creature care
No time to watch butterfly flit and bob
Or to consider the lilies so fair

Come, let us cater to wanderlust’s lure
Weather the verge of the surge of farewell
Savor the flavor of summer, so pure
Tolling a swansong in each flower-bell

Soak in the silver-soft laughter of life
Cherish its brief afternoon of romance
List to the ballad of roses run rife
While Father Time and Mother Nature (slow)dance

No reason needed, dear, just sit a bit
For none can tether Time to mid-July
All one can do is to revel in it
Linger where bronze wheat fields bend with goodbye

And Queen Ann decks herself in finest lace
And Daisy dares with ‘loves-me-loves-me-not’
Where every flower-dear is fair of face
And every shower-dear a gift from God

Crinoline swish of welkin gowns brush by
Heart skips a beat; reciprocates with rhyme
While happiness soars to new July-high
Here in the season of sweet Summertime

© Janet Martin

While happiness soars to new July-high
Here in the season of sweet Summertime








Monday, August 1, 2022

Rainbow-Feast





She pulls a rainbow from her garden
Savours every shade
Because a rainbow from the garden
Is the best feast ever made

Thank-you, God!

© Janet Martin





Sitting in the Garden (is a lovely thing to do)








'You have a lot of garden benches', commented one of my sisters recently.
'Do you use them?'

I guess she knows how it goes!
Sitting in the garden is a lovely thing to do
but easier said than done
because gardening and nice gardens don't just happen!
They are a constant labor of love
/aka weeding, hoeing, pruning, dusting and picking!
But here and there every gardener needs to take the time to sit a bit
And fellowship with the First Garden-Creator,
 in the cool of the day....


Sitting in a garden is a lovely thing to do
To marvel at God’s art and let His laughter run us through
To commune with the busy/buzzy bee, the bird, the butterfly
To join the applause of the tree where gauzy breezes sigh

Sitting in a garden in the middle of the day
Grants worry sudden pardon and eases hurry away
For, basking in the beauty where a flower bower brims
Is like sitting where God's music sheets run rife with petal-hymns

The handiwork of He who instills buds and seeds with bloom
Constantly thrills; only God fills and threads nature’s grand loom
He steals our breath; Self dies ten-thousand deaths as She beholds
Perfection’s hues; pinks, chartreuse, blues, whites, reds, purples and golds

Sitting in the garden is earth’s glimpse of paradise
Happiness in purest mirth and labour’s sweetest prize
Work and worship’s Heaven; what a lovely place to be
Sitting in a garden is like sitting at/on God’s knee

© Janet Martin

some more garden pleasure...









Tuesday, April 5, 2022

Handful of Seeds?

 



For today's prompt (the first Two-for-Tuesday prompt of the month),
write a make sense poem and/or don't make sense poem.


It doesn’t make sense that something so little and brittle should kindle such joy
The rush of elation roused by contemplation of what waits within its employ
Of places to wander and graces to ponder as wonder its plunder beholds
Completely breath taken by what will awaken, that raindrop and sun-kiss unfolds

Each April as surely and sweetly and purely as winter’s traces disappear
A feeling comes stealing, nay, reeling and pealing like bells tolling in the new year
As seeds for the garden (so seemingly common) then, utterly awe and amaze
And fill heart-recesses with thrilled happiness-es that spill into anthems of praise

Because we remember stunning petal splendor, the fruit of our labour’s reward
The way that a kernel begets virgin, vernal abundance of goodness outpoured
Instilled with cool bowers, bright rainbows of flowers, provision for needs great and small
So little and brittle, ah, handful of miracles; Perhaps it makes sense after all

© Janet Martin

Because we remember stunning petal splendor, the fruit of our labour’s reward...





the fruit of our labour's reward...