Thursday, October 26, 2017

How Doth A Little Day?

A tug upon the heart-string
Earth is full of lullaby...



A tap upon the shoulder
And a kiss upon the cheek
And we are one day older
Then another, then a week
Ah tell me Father Time, pray tell,
How doth the little day
With mite-y boon of tick-tock knell
Soon whisk its while away

A fellow full of wishes
And a wee gal full of charm
Kitchen sink full of dishes
Autumn applesauce, still warm
A baby full of ‘precious’
And a mother full of love
And an hour that soon meshes
With past’s endless echo-trove

A trundle through the woodland
Flower-flurried with farewell
A dally in the garden
Where the bloom of summer fell
Meander through the meadow
Wander through a gallery
to marvel at sun-shadow
-art hanging from sky and tree

A tug upon the heart-string
Earth is full of lullaby
A hug, hello my darling
There you go, good-bye, goodbye
Ah tell me Master of the clock
How doth the little day
With mite-y boon of tick and tock
Whisper a life away

© Janet Martin





Thought Poem on a Thursday



 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God,
and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.
2 Cor.10:5
(this is not a Thursday Thoughts post,
just a post about thought on a Thursday:)

This poem was ongoing all day...
I was constantly interrupted by over 300 photo ops!
 I wish I could share most of them...
all day long masterpiece moments made me wish for a head on a swivel!






How in a world of wishing want and taunt do we withstand
Those wily whispers working in the matrix of the mind
Where roster that we foster in secret, mentors the hand
As conception of thought gives birth to deed soon left behind
Then we are wise to scrutinize sly guests we entertain
They author what we do, run through with aftermath’s terrain

Mankind’s plan of attack soon veers off-track if we neglect
To consult Wisdom’s Handbook for infallible decrees
Oh Lord, my God, how awed we ought to be but we forget
And trust the vanity of thought lured by what the eye sees
Yet oh, the sights that often steal our rev'rent breath away
Were authored by the One who wrote the laws we disobey

His law is love; but love of Self is a fool’s syndicate
Me-myself-I aggrandizes boast’s painted devilries
And consorts to waved banners of excuse to vindicate
The pitiful pitfalls that prove Deception’s fallacies
Intent for all its gentlemanly attributes and such
Oftentimes gets distorted somewhere between thought and touch

And just because we meant well does not mean we will not fail
Fancy is quite a master-chef when cooking food for thought
It spreads before the wide-eyed mind buffets of grand regale
Where uninvited guests creep in to feast among the lot
They gorge on tasty morsels which seem innocent and sweet
Until they find their way into indulgent hands and feet

Ho, ho, we are in trouble when the lords of vanity
Exchange that which is Holy for sight-sanctioned substitute
Discretion like a marshal brings into captivity
Each argument and pretense that defies Godly statute
How in a world of want and taunt does Thought withstand defeat?
By scrutinizing every guest that tries to take a seat

© Janet Martin

Today's 'thought-guests' were treated to lots of laughter courtesy of two little three-ish year old girlies...


example 1: girl one reading to girl two (as she turned the pages and looked at the pictures) "Once upon a time there was"...and so forth until I caught the ending
 'then he said, well you know what? I am a dad so I can be the daddy 
and she said, well, I'm a mom so I can be the mommy,
 then they vewy, vewy fell in love and lived hapwy evew aftoh!" 
(then they very, very fell in love and lived happily ever after:)

Example 2: girl two, after realizing she talked to me in a very steady monotone 
crinkled up her face, looked up at me with big blue eyes and said,
 "oh deaw, I was talking like a wobot!"
(oh dear. I was talking like a robot!)

...after above hike I picked up a box of 20 timbits for their snack while we drove home.
 After we were driving for a bit they asked if they may have 'another one'.
"How many have you eaten so far?" I ask
Fwee, came the reply.
OK, says I, you may have another one.
When we got home I looked in the box. There were 4 left.
I guess their counting needs a little 'practice'!
But we gals all sometimes just have 'fwee', right;-)
(and never mind if we missed a few!!lol)


...and before I knew it dusk fell where morn mist, 
it seemed had swathed the vale but a bit ago!




Wednesday, October 25, 2017

When We Remember...a Hallelujah Hymn





When we remember that He remembers no more
Hope soars like an eagle to heights before unknown
Faith finds The Focal-point worth fighting for
And sets its sight beyond earth’s flight of stone

When we remember that He remembers naught
That, as far as east is from the west He flings
The sordid details of remorse at redemption besought
And He only remembers forgiving us; Hope sings

It is not for nothing that we press toward a shore
Beyond the death where debt would damn the dead
Then we remember (because of Jesus) He remembers our sin no more
Hope weeps for joy and marches, hallelujah, straight ahead

© Janet Martin


 For as high as the heavens are above the earth, 
So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him. 
Just as a father has compassion on his children, 
So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him.…
Psalm 103:11-13

Like Fall's Scattered Leaf...



 We have not yet had a killer frost in this area! Quite unusual.
Enjoying its boon of bonus-bloom moments!





Time’s garrulous enterprise of exchange
Makes strangers of each moment it imparts
Where font of memory alone sustains
November embers glowing in our hearts

A riot in tree tresses tosses gold
Up in the air and down beneath the feet
That tattoo streets and lanes with tried-true old
Rigmarole of dust to dust retreat

Ah, sweet fleet of vermilion dashed on blue
Where autumn’s loudest laughter will soon die
Its corpse a stark, raven-ink sketched ado
As Brute and Beauty clash in lullaby

Don’t cry, my love, for Moment’s slick employ
It is their joy we mourn; be glad for grief
Life’s proof of love quickens Time’s Chief Decoy
Of moments strewn like autumn's scattered leaf

© Janet Martin