Rocking Baby to Sleep...

Mothers have many a memory to keep

Kiss-cradle-hug-a-bye-hold-and-release

But the memory of rocking my babies to sleep

Returns now and then in bittersweet peace

‘Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top’

‘Hush little baby, don’t say a word’

Sleep, baby, sleep’ and ‘the weasel goes pop’

‘Neath little star its sweet echo is stirred

Soft on the bosom of mothers they sleep

Warm in the arms that are holding the world

Yes, Mothers have many a memory to keep

But none like the rocking of wee boy or girl

‘Lullaby, goodnight and close your wee eyes’

Soon the bright morning will steal you away

Lullaby, goodnight, my, my how time flies

Let me hold heaven as long as I may…

© Janet Martin

Recently the little guy I babysit needed a little extra rocking due to being sick with colds etc…it stirred many a beautiful memory as I sang the old familiar lullabies to him long after he fell asleep.

These little guys also reminded me of a poem I memorized as a girl because I thought it suited my little brothers at the time.

Lullaby

Bedtime come fo' little boys
Po' little lamb.
Too tiahed out to make a noise,
Po' little lamb.
You gwine t' have to-morrer sho'?
Yes, you tole me dat befo',
Don't you fool me, chile, no mo',
Po' little lamb.

You been bad de livelong day,
Po' little lamb.
Th'owin' stones an' runnin' 'way,
Po' little lamb.
My, but you 's a-runnin' wil',
Look jes' lak some po' folks chile;
Mam' gwine whup you atter while,
Po' little lamb.

Come hyeah! you mos' tiahed to def,
Po' little lamb.
Played yo'se'f clean out o' bref,
Po' little lamb.
See dem han's now--sich a sight!
Would you evah b'lieve dey's white?
Stan' still twell I wash 'em right,
Po' little lamb.

Jes' cain't hol' yo' haid up straight,
Po' little lamb.
Had n't oughter played so late,
Po' little lamb.
Mammy do' know whut she 'd do,
Ef de chillun's all lak you;
You 's a caution now fu' true,
Po' little lamb.

Lay yo' haid down in my lap,
Po' little lamb.
Y' ought to have a right good slap,
Po' little lamb.
You been runnin' roun' a heap.
Shet dem eyes an' don't you peep,
Dah now, dah now, go to sleep,
Po' little lamb.

Paul Laurence Dunbar :

Marching Orders...

Morning spills and fills a sea

With hope’s golden melody

Blue night-shadows seep away

Grace bestows another day

None can know its mystery

What will shape its legacy?

Touch its tide with faith, for oh

By the grace of God we go

Soon the night wind fills earth’s sigh

Today’s hello and good-bye

Writes its verse of love and life

Kiss of laughter, sting of strife

Beg the Lord for mercy, then

Off we go and try again

Surely in return for rest

We owe God our very best

© Janet Martin

For some reason getting up was hard this morning…but the last two lines suddenly jolted me out of bed.

Downton Abbey-hearts

PAD challenge day 17: write a pop-culture poem

Tea sipped from fine china will not take us there

Yet we curl up in England from our easy chairs

With servants, gowns and hats though liberation

Sneers now at stiffness of such tradition

We become Mary, Anna, Cora,  Lady Grantham

Because somewhere within us we understand them

We are not familiar with much of the ado

But ah, we know a Miss O’Brien or two

And the snobbery of royalty still thrives

Lust, love, greed, grief; these are life

And we, blue jean princesses could well wear their names

Because human emotion is ever the same

 

So we sip our tea, love our ‘Bransons’ and ‘Bates’

Call our castles home, search for soul-mates

For we are all Crawleys; rich, poor, in-between

Tested with love and loss on living’s green

Centuries pass; old fashions seem strange

Yet, those things of the heart never really change

© Janet Martin

Epiphany

In that one moment

Every cruelty,

Slight and jab

Climaxed,

Erupting

In blind,

Supreme

Hatred

…and she knew in that one moments every evil

in its darkest, violent sin-cursed potential...o-o-o-h!

In that one moment

She knew

Every 

kindness,

Grace and 

Mercy

Breathed,

Is a gift

Of God’s

Forgiveness 

and

Supreme   

Love

© Janet Martin

 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
Matt. 6:14

God Sent His Son...

   

Broken, pleading, hope lay bleeding

On earth’s battleground, undone

Who can heal man's utter needing?

Only One; God sent His Son

Mortal treasure could not measure

To absolve our guilty groan

Blood of ram inept tradition

Until this; God sent His Son

Law condemns sinful behavior

We are sinful; everyone

Is there for our doom a Savior?

Who, my Lord? God sent His Son

Hate and hunger lunged to slaughter

Goodness, Mercy, Love undone

From the cross pours Living Water

To redeem; God sent His Son

Broken, bleeding, Jesus pleading

Father, forgive what they’ve done

For they do not know; I’m leading

Them to You; God sent his Son

© Janet Martin

 When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves. And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, "He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One."…Luke 23: 33-35

Eventide Elegy

There are far better things ahead than anything we can leave behind. C.S.Lewis

Found the above quote at Words on Wheels. Check out Deb's beautiful and inspirational notes cards.

PAD challenge day 16: write an elegy

Love cups joy but cannot clench

Blessing-beauty; Moments wrench

Now to Then and When to Now

As our love-cups overflow

Darling, once upon a climb

We were ignorant of Time

How this thoroughfare of clocks

Gathers moments behind locks

…how love cups life’s moment-gong

Fading now in vesper-song

Pitter-patter… passion, prayer

Spills and fills our here-to-there

Darling, let’s dance soft and slow

Swift, how swift these Time-gems flow

Phantom eighth-notes gilded glide

Echoing on eventide

Hold me dear, too soon dusk-dirge

Overtakes dawn’s virgin splurge

Cup-‘o-love songs gently ride  

Breezes on the eventide

© Janet Martin

Hark, Hark, What is that Sound?

Hark, hark, what is that sound

That rends the atmosphere

As elements are shuddering

…ah yes, it is God’s tear

Hark, hark, what is that sob

Immersing Time’s embrace

In moment-metered pantomime

…ah yes, it is God’s grace

Hark, hark, what fills the realms

Twixt hell and heav’n above

With hope’s immortal canticle

…ah yes, it is God’s love

© Janet Martin

Stained-glass Elegy

 PAD challenge Day 16: write an elegy

They sit like stained-glass spectacles

Tucked in rural burgs and vales

Steeple-postcards; red, brown, gray

Where fore-fathers came to pray

As Amazing Grace rang strong

Before progress stole its song

Here Miss Betty sang off-key

Baby bounced on mother’s knee

Johnny scribbled on the pew

Mary blushed and peeked at Lou

Daddies paused from six-day test

Sabbath was a day of rest

Once upon a simpler Time

Sunday morning bore the chime

Of the tolling steeple-bell

…’Come to church or go to hell’  

Now when Sunday rolls around

Silence is its only sound

 

Here they sit; each village square

Has a little church somewhere

Mr. Brown still mows the lawn

Pausing to reflect upon

Friends and neighbors lying where

No one comes to pray a prayer

...and those doors that never locked

Never open; is God shocked

As He sees His house of prayer

Empty; hallmarks of despair

Like a grave among the graves

Echoing 'come, Jesus saves'

 

© Janet Martin 

If you come to visit St.Jacobs Ontario, Canada you will hear these bells every day at noon.They play for 10-15 minutes. I love how the guy mowing the lawn stops as soon as he realizes the bells are playing...

  

love, love this song by Craig Morgan...

Then, In the Dusk of Being...

Then, there it is, where just an hour or maybe two before

Daylight drew pictures on earth’s shadow-dappled living-floor

While we too, with each touch and trip and here and there a fall

Draw pictures we will hang with tender care upon a wall

Then in the dusk of Being we will pause a little too

To watch the blue grow deeper on Time’s weathered avenue

We’ll hear upon the night-wind fond farewells to reminisce

And gather much like flowers faded fragments to thought-kiss

The hours that have stolen precious afternoons afar

Will suddenly be resurrected ‘neath the evening star

As in the dusk of Being we allow ourselves to dance

The doggerel befitting those who’ve suffered Time’s romance

The heart is like a levee holding memories in place

Where aftermath of daylight keens its generous embrace

And though day-shadows disappear into night-ebony

It cannot brush away the beauty of a memory

Where in the dusk of Being we walk slower than before

To touch with tender gratitude Time’s shadow-dappled floor

© Janet Martin

Don Williams; I would like to see you again~

Mid-April Snow

Last night I sensed a brooding  restlessness in the gathering of daylight...this morning I knew why!

It bullies in without invitation

No celebration or rousing rah-rah

Even the robin declares his frustration

Vexed at a landscape reluctant to thaw

Dear old man winter, you’ve worn out your welcome

Take your white troops to the far side of earth

There they are waiting to greet you with bells on

Here we are weary of ice-feather mirth

Hearts are half-crazy for violet and daisy

Our bodies starved for gold kiss of the sun

April is famous for showers, not flurries

Take your vile humor, oh winter and run

We dream of grandstands upon hillside meadow

Where we will lie on dusk’s blue-shadow grid

Somehow white beauty outside every window

No longer moves me the way it once did

Baritone banter of half-spring surrender

Tosses bud-tresses eager to bestow

Green gilded glory of first-blossom splendor

Where you have decked her with mid-April snow

© Janet Martin

Went out for a walk/run tonight; it was painfully cold and insultingly beautiful;)

Romance of Redemption

He etches silhouette of tree on skyline

Ethereal canvas of ruby and gold

Where one more day with each half-breath is fading

Into Past’s vast and invisible hold

He spoke to Being crag, coppice and canyon

Fathom of flowers were formed by His thought

Alpha-Omega yet in every moment

Nothing is born but that by His Hand wrought

And though nature awes the mind-reach of a man  

‘tis merely the back-drop to Love’s Master Plan

  

He left His throne in the glories of Heaven

Love drove this Shepherd to earth’s stony sweep

Not to still reeds tossed in wind-worn abandon

But to draw to Him each wandering sheep

Love’s tender wooing sought souls stiff and stubborn

Here, where the brush-strokes of nature-song fell

Power and passion loved hearts fully human

Knowing the cost of His courtship full-well

Not of red roses nor wine in His cup

But thorns on His head and a cross lifted up

Pardon’s red river still rolls through the ages

Love, culminated on Calvary’s tree

Writes His love story on century-pages

‘Darling Deliverer sets sin-captives free’

Lover of mortal, Redeemer, Good Shepherd

Salvation’s romance of Savior to soul

Draws us from gutters of guilt to Love’s shoulder

If not for Love then where can we be Whole?

God’s grace expands Time’s ephemeral slate

Love cannot bear to fetter Mercy’s Gate

© Janet Martin

  

Greatest Love Story...Stayed tuned for more...

John 19:-30

Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. ² The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe ³ and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face.

⁴ Once more Pilate came out and said to the Jews gathered there, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no basis for a charge against him.” ⁵ When Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe, Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!”
⁶ As soon as the chief priests and their officials saw him, they shouted, “Crucify! Crucify!”
But Pilate answered, “You take him and crucify him. As for me, I find no basis for a charge against him.”
⁷ The Jewish leaders insisted, “We have a law, and according to that law he must die, because he claimed to be the Son of God.”
⁸ When Pilate heard this, he was even more afraid, ⁹ and he went back inside the palace. “Where do you come from?” he asked Jesus, but Jesus gave him no answer. ¹⁰ “Do you refuse to speak to me?” Pilate said. “Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?”
¹¹ Jesus answered, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. Therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.”
¹² From then on, Pilate tried to set Jesus free, but the Jewish leaders kept shouting, “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar.”
¹³ When Pilate heard this, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judge’s seat at a place known as the Stone Pavement (which in Aramaic is Gabbatha). ¹⁴ It was the day of Preparation of the Passover; it was about noon.
“Here is your king,” Pilate said to the Jews.
¹⁵ But they shouted, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!”
“Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked.
“We have no king but Caesar,” the chief priests answered.
¹⁶ Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.

The Crucifixion of Jesus

So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. ¹⁷ Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha). ¹⁸ There they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle.
¹⁹ Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: jesus of nazareth, the king of the jews. ²⁰ Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. ²¹ The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews.”
²² Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.”
²³ When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.
²⁴ “Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.”
This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said,

“They divided my clothes among them
    and cast lots for my garment.”^[a]

So this is what the soldiers did.

²⁵ Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. ²⁶ When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman,^[b] here is your son,” ²⁷ and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.

The Death of Jesus

²⁸ Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” ²⁹ A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. ³⁰ When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.