Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Life Goes On

A few weeks ago we attended the wedding of my neice.
 She married our lifelong neighbour's son!
At the wedding hubby and I chatted for a little while with the groom's uncle
 (age 63) who moved to Manitoba years ago and raised his family there.
He encouraged me to make/take the time to go with Jim/hubby sometimes
because we just never know what life can bring.
Since that conversation 3+ weeks ago Jim has met him completely unexpectedly (twice!)
as he drove through Manitoba.
Suddenly a truck pulled alongside his truck and a man with a friendly smile
and honk waved as he went by. It was Ken Weber!
Yesterday he passed away suddenly due to a heart attack!

A few days ago a this community was rocked by the death of a young woman
 killed in an awful traffic accident, leaving us asking,
(after coming through a sorrow-stricken October)
 who/what next?!!

 Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death,
 so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.
For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again,
we also believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him.…
1 Thess. 4:13-14 

This song was played the other Sunday for our 'hurting bad' church family
as we mourn the sudden loss of a few of its members...

because, life goes on!

Life goes on
The holes where loss
Leaves gaping wounds
Ah, who can fill?
Where Death
(That Ruthless Random Beast)
With precise aim
Is never still

Life goes on:
Worlds rocked anew
With Grief’s insistent
Unforeseen
Where all we knew
Cannot return
To be the way
That it had been

Death’s sickle swings
Ah, who is next
To fall beneath its
Binding blade
Where love, ah love
Will suffer long
The aftermath
Of parting’s trade

Where life goes on
In spite of Death
(Though much is taken
Much remains)
To stir our hearts
And steal our Breath
As Hope in God
Alone sustains

Life goes on;
It eddies, swirls
Where love and sorrow
Ache and brim
As love of God
Kindly consoles
And fills the holes
With hope in Him


© Janet Martin


Monday, November 4, 2019

Triple Word-Play

PAD Challenge day 3: For today’s prompt, write a poem of threes. 
Your poem could be about the number three or feature three of something, for sure, but it could also do some other things. For instance, your poem could be composed of tercets (or three-line stanzas), have three syllables per line, or be a three-line poem (like a haiku or lune). Or write about tricycles or triangles or any number (though mostly the number three) of other plays on three.



morning, noon, night
young, middle-age, old
yolk, shell, white
hot, warm, cold

future, present, past
 good, better, best
first, between, last
work, play, rest

run, walk, sit
think, write, read
edit, edit, edit
plant, water, weed

dream, dare, do
stop, look, leap
 much, moderate, few
love, laugh, weep

bears, pigs, kittens
 oh what fun
porridge, wolf, mittens
  run, Goldilocks, run

big, medium, small
second, minute, hour
 roof, floor, wall
stem, bud, flower

you, him, me
(makes me a third wheel)
expensive, cheap, free
beg, borrow, steal

mix, bake, eat
pour, steep, drink
spicy, sour, sweet
or pure black Columbian (wink)

one, two, three
jump, fall, fly
you, I, we
hello, hug, good-bye

Janet Martin




Night Thoughts

PAD Challenge Day 4: For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Night (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. 

"These are night-thoughts.
The day will wash them away"
Quote from; From Larkrise to Candleford 



Through chasms carved with what is not
They rush; frail flood-gates yield to thought
That daylight’s barricades had barred
But midnight’s maelstroms disregard
And would wreak havoc in the Place
That cups our mustard seed of faith

…for something about darkness wakes
A world immune to masquerades
It strips bravado down to size
As fear rallies its troop of lies
To thunder through thought’s sleepless form
With ‘what ifs’ agonizing storm

And were it not for prayer to keep
A Shepherd’s watch on thought-shaped sheep
And were it not for grace to guard
The fold those night-fiends disregard
We could not ward off wolves that wait
To break in and annihilate

So when I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord His watch to keep
And guard me from the beasts that lurk
When I have set aside my work
Where love and longing carve an ache
That sometimes night-thought’s overtake

© Janet Martin

Saturday, November 2, 2019

Then It's November




When the leaves leave the tree stripped of its lay
When the heart feels some part slipping away
When the earth bears the dearth of summer spent
When the husk drifts after its gift is rent
It’s November

When the gale starts to wail a dirge-like tune
When the day starts to fade soon after noon
When the spire dims its fire, kissed by Jack Frost
When the hearth brims with the warmth Sun has lost
It’s November

When the world-view is pearled, swirled, twirled then stilled
When the air starts to wear warnings, bone-chilled
When happiness is our ‘yes’ flannel-clad
When a nook with a book makes us fully glad
It’s November

When the teapot is hot more than it’s cold
When flower-hours are pictures we hold
When nature’s stature is solemn and stark
When gold hues diffuse and autumn is dark
It’s November

When clocks turn back and pack a twilight punch
When matted embers surrender their crunch
When the first snowman can make old kids grin
(When we forget what yet waits to begin)
It’s November

When apples dapple cuisine, plain and posh
When dinner-winners use pumpkin and squash
When hugs are mugs filled with something that steams
When want relinquishes wishes for dreams
It’s November

When weather tethers us together again
When home clucks and tucks like a mother hen
When gratitude wraps its brood in a prayer
When the wood-pile smiles from here to there
It’s November

When the bard lets down her guard to a roar
When poetry is a sea with no shore
When she will shirk her work for one more dance
When thought is caught between rule and romance
It’s November 

When bluejays boss, cross or happy, who knows
When we are wowed by cloud and contrail shows 
When trust must suffer wind's blustering fits 
When we scan plans that demand boots and mitts 
(and snow-tires, home-fires, washer-fluid, shovels, de-icer salt, popcorn, parkas, umbrellas)
It's November


© Janet Martin

Friday, November 1, 2019

Once Upon a Mother's Love...

It's November. Writer's Digest's Poem-a-day prompt begins again!

With a change in pronouns this could be  'dad' or 'parents' poem as well
but because my dear mother turns 77 today, I wrote it for her.
The older she and I get, the more I cherish the person she is
and the more I realize how much I took for granted!)

(my mother, being of a meek and modest nature
might not object to one small pic of her peeking from behind some blooms)

Happy 77th, mom!



Oh, once upon a younger love
Before Time turned the page
That stirs revised collections of
A fond and foreign age
There, from a well of priceless ink
No child can comprehend
The poetry of childhood’s wink
Was unconsciously penned

Oh, once upon our mother’s prime
We spent her best of days
Oblivious to Father Time
And his insistent ways
We out-grew shoes and buttered bread
And learned to do our share
Blind to the sacrificial thread
That wove her loving care

Oh, once upon a simpler day
(We didn’t see it then)
While balancing work, play and pray
We became women, men
And looking back thanks often falls
Beyond the reach of word
Where once upon much greener halls
Childhood’s swift seasons blurred

…as once upon a mother’s love
Her fledglings learned to fly
Up, up, love's brave and tender shove
Propelled us to the sky
While we, intent upon the stars
Did not fathom her part
Until we bore love’s battle-scars
And wore a mother’s heart

© Janet Martin



Yesterday morning was our annual mom's birthday tea with my sisters and sister-in-laws;
ten of us in total and always a special time of food and fellowship
as we reconnect after a busy summer and plan for Christmas etc.
My contribution to the food was 
Oatmeal Raisin Pie

Mix and pour in unbaked 9" crust...
(handful of raisins sprinkled on crust optional)

1/4 cup melted butter
1/2 cup sugar
 3 eggs, beaten
1 cup oatmeal
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (and/or nutmeg)
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup corn syrup

Bake approx. 45 min at 350F