A Good Song

Matt suggested I give this guy's music a listen because he thought I would like it...I do!

I hope you do too...I got choked up when,
after I sent a few songs to Dave and Karen they messaged back...listen to The Toolbox.
Especially meaningful after the year my carpenter brother Dave had.
Last week the surgeon told him surgery on his shoulder would be pointless...the tears are too large.
They are hopeful given time, that it may get stronger. At this point he uses the 'better' arm to lift the 'worse' one. Karen's INR's continue to be monitored.I know they appreciate continued prayers.

Music can lower the foothills of heaven

It can wake whispers sealed deep in our skin

Like a good love it makes life worth the livin’

Touches a sweet soul-chord somewhere within

A good song can move us across common dance-floors

Gather us into hope's wide open arms

Then, as it holds us, no matter the life-wars

One can get lost in Tchaikovsky or Brahms

It can move mountains (if but for a moment)

Rush in a river of cadence and rhythm

Hello love, bluegrass, wisemen-say,  Beethoven

Breath-stealing beauty of an old sacred hymn

Sometimes we laugh, full of joy-crazy hunger

Sometimes we listen just so we can cry

I’ll take a good song over purchased plunder

It rouses wonder that money can’t buy

Let's take a load off; night, blow out your candles

Come, let's lay back on a pillow of awe

Close our eyes, paradise trembles in Handel’s

Chorus of Messiah's Hallelujah

© Janet Martin

January Exits...(believe it or not)

Can you believe it?!

January 2018 in a few Jack-Frost-feather-weight hours is gonzo, done, natta, nix!

From the grip of old Man Winter

One allotted era slips

January's Jack Frost feathers

Free-fall from his fumbling fist

Eiderdown and raging tempest

Waft and wail o’er frozen fell

January, like a house-guest

Tips his hat and bids farewell

One month less now bars the gateway

Leading to spring’s flower-show

January, bows and makes way

For successors psyched with snow

But like we, their days are numbered

Old Man Winter feels his age

January, unencumbered

Tap dances from center-stage

Ordered by a Higher Maestro

He exits without protest

January, Mr. Ice-Snow

Expects no encore request

He has fulfilled his cold calling

Some applaud him, others seethe

January, love or hate him

Leaves behind ch-ch-ch-attering teeth

© Janet Martin

Winter Dessert-Buffet

Somewhere in the sky-kitchen the sugar spilled!

 As much as I love a sere canvas called Sheer Silence...like Sunday

I love the white fluff winter is known for;-) like Monday

 (the below photos from the archives because I was sick a-bed Monday 

and totally astonished at the transformation that took place meanwhile...)

There is just something that 'feels right' when winter is white!

Earth is a tea-tray of white, sparkling truffles

Who in the world could dream up such delight

Scattered at random on linen-clothed tables

Drawing the eye to each sumptuous bite

Earth is a strudel dipped in fine white sugar

Teasing the taste-buds of sight with its sheen

Making us leap for joy, just because winter

Covers the world in furls fit for a queen

Earth is a white-dusted cruller , a cream-puff

Earth is a Portuguese Pillow, oh my

Hold out your tongue, catch a crumb of its white stuff

Then let it melt in a want-for-naught sigh

Earth is a dollop of whip cream on pudding

It is a marshmallow-garnished melee

Come, grab a no-guilt thirds-please slice of Something

Don't just strut by with a gruff 'no-siree'

Earth is a sweet treat with white frosted drizzle

Some stiff-necked diners cringe and shudder ‘nay’

Some of us linger for just one more nibble

Knowing what warm winds do to its buffet

© Janet Martin

Savoring The Ordinary!

Being sick always makes me crave regular or not-so-regular day-to-day Duties Beauties

...like manure-scooping(yup!) on Saturday afternoon
after hubby came back from a particularly draining trip
 and even though he worked circles around me (there's a knack to forking!:)
he said the company was as much appreciated as the 'help'☺

That was Saturday before Sunday-evening flu hit!

Lying in bed listening to life at a distance
rouses a craving for the delicious flavor of 'simple' or 'normal'

Give me a mat full of shoes to trip over

Grant me the honor to take out the trash

Laundry is life’s five-star favor of labor

Give me a floor to scrub, dishes to wash

I love the crest of new day all a-quiver

With raindrop rivers or snow-sequined fists

After a bubble of trouble I savor

The heaven-flavor of plain to-do lists

Show me the long way home; I’m in no hurry

Find me a field full of furrowed furlough

Let me look longer at trees once a-flurry

Still full of glory yet stripped of leaf-show

Music is more than the striking of harp-strings

You should hear heart-strings, after laughter’s pause

My, but a moment takes on sacred meaning

After whatever yesterday’s woe was

Give me a bowl full of dinner-in-waiting

Morning so crisp you could bite it in two

Give me the goodness of mercy creating

Humble thanksgiving… after the flu

© Janet Martin

 "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."-Psalm 30:5

My thoughts and prayers are with those still waiting for 'the morning' of joy.

I have a cousin (Wayne Martin) who suffers greatly because of MS 

He is a  husband and father...will you pray for him/them?

For hope/healing however God wills...

I just received a prayer request this evening for a young mom moved to hospice tonight!

 Will you pray too that God would be real to them in their hour of great need?

Up the road a family is adapting to the normal of one less among them....

their 'joy in the morning' feels far away.

...and we all have our own list of names we could add!

Let's never take for granted, present-joy!