October-set

 When she saw tomorrow's forecast Victoria squealed and did a happy dance; November plus snow can mean only one thing...the beginning of Christmas music in the Martin-house;)

October frets from eaves cold, gray

It sets in leaves of golden fray

To slumber where we used to lie

Beneath blue blankets of the sky

Before earth’s tent was dull and torn

And lowered to a land forlorn

October slips into the hush

Of stricken wood and underbrush

Pungent its tattered chatter lies

Cradled in summer’s lullabies

As silence strums night’s frostiness

And numbs our noses with its kiss

October sets in gold and red

Lavishing trails where dreamers tread

A sodden, trodden aftermath

On nature’s endless garden path

Where we hear in Time’s undertow

The dance of feet waiting for snow

© Janet Martin

Death...In Memory of Troy

Death gives no reason when it comes

And often without warning

It chooses one still far too young

To turn our hearts to mourning

Death does not regard prominence

As its appointment severs

Mortal ties of family, friends

And changes lives forever

Death, who can tell how near or far

Our own appointment hovers?

Pray we choose then to live each day

As though life soon is over

© Janet Martin

I did not know Troy personally but...

...suddenly he is every parent’s son as every parent mourns. A horrific crash on the week-end involving three local youth claims the life of one.

In remembrance of Troy.

So Alike, Yet oh So Different

Approx. 40 years later...

As we sit here recalling years that long have come and gone

And as we reminisce of childhood’s happy hours spent

Where kindred memories abound, some shared, some saved by one

I smile; because we’re so alike yet oh, so different

One remembers something that sparks someone else’s thought

And suddenly we are transported back; laughter is bent

Around the kitchen sink perhaps where life was learned and taught

While we grew up so much alike yet oh, so different

For a brief morning we relinquish bonds of mother-toll

As we become the little girls around our mother’s knee

And mother smiles as if she too returns to years time stole

Of having everyone at home the way it used to be

For things we cannot change, for afternoons lost and replaced

We tend time’s tender echoes with a reverent lament

As we exchange fond pictures framed where footsteps are retraced

In memories so much alike yet oh, so different

© Janet Martin

We were together on the old home farm yesterday to celebrate my mom’s birthday with our annual tea-party.Everyone brings food to enjoy with fellowship:)

It’s sweet and strange, the things the mind retains and so interesting to hear what one sister remembers that others have long forgotten! 

 

At this sink many an hour was spent chattering, arguing, being extremely silly, singing four-part harmony, watching the world from this window while doing dishes. A family with 10 kids always makes lots of laundry, lots of dishes and lots of precious memories.

My brother and his family live here on the home farm.

The Green, green grass of home

Mr. Twilight

For as long as I can remember

He climbs the beaming hill

And fills his pockets with the gold

That daylight hours spill

It seems I almost hear him

Strumming limbs and such

Humming as the shadows fall

Blue beneath his touch

I should like to join him

To stroll along the ridge

Where suddenly the afternoon

Is like a walking bridge

The landscape like a river

Where all its swarthy ships

Are harbored on earth’s dewy seas

Beneath his fingertips

He does not see me watching

I guess he never will

He always faces to the east

I live on the south hill

But often as he passes

I wipe a winsome tear

And blow a kiss for what yet is

But soon will disappear

© Janet Martin

Beneath the Rush of Dawn Unstoppered

We, at the faultless mercy

Of He who ordains air

With colors of new morning

Have a high call to bear

Whether of prince or pauper

Young, old or in between

The rush of dawn un-stoppered

Pours out virgin Unseen

Then, as we drain its golden

deluge of touch-taste test

We each are called, beholden

To give to God our best

© Janet Martin

Jim called from near Sudbury and we were comparing sunrises. They both sounded pretty good and not at all alike!!!

our call...

 And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:

³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
⁵ “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
⁶ “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
⁷ “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
⁸ “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
⁹ “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons^[a] of God.
¹⁰ “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
¹¹ “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. ¹² Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. Matt.5:2-12