Thursday, May 31, 2018


A very fine finish to the final day of May...
 after lots of rain-song...

 ...lots of sun-song too!
 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
    let the sea resound, and all that is in it. 
 Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them;
    let all the trees of the forest sing for joy. 
 Let all creation rejoice before the Lord,

He strums the barren branch; beneath his touch leaf-song is born
From bars of moon and stars He carves virginity of morn
He runs his fingers ‘cross the strings of grass and willow harp
And startles us with orchestral arrangements after dark
…and should man’s boast play host to Self; forgetting what He grants
He humbles us with stumbles in the middle of the dance

His compositions play on twilight’s shadow-smitten sweep
In soft-as-kitten serenade He lulls the world to sleep
Then with dawn’s sun-gold trumpet He raises life’s battle-cry
And rouses us from slumber to give love another try
…and should we leap without a nod to God for mercy’s gong
Sometimes He orders a ‘time-out’ so we don’t miss The Song

He tunes the air of common care with wonder to behold
Masterpiece after masterpiece from field and firth unfold
And never, even for an eight-note does he shut His eyes
Or ever for a quaver turn a deaf ear to our cries
…but with perfect precision, like only gracious God can
He orchestrates His flawless timing to the likes of man

Holy, holy, all nature streams in perfect harmony
The river gleams; its lyrics ripple to the rolling sea
And every seed according to its kind out-pours a hymn
Of worship to the One who infiltrates the budded limb
…where everywhere we look we see the atheist impugned
The Maestro of earth’s music moves through choruses, fine-tuned

He meters mercy over mercy; lavishes the lea
With season after season of breath stealing melody
A ballad breathed in blossoms to the darlings of His gaze
A bluebell benediction and a harvest hymn of praise
… a wind-song, rain-song, sea-song, love song’s languid ebb and flow
To cheer the pioneer with hope as by His grace we go

© Janet Martin

Ode to Seasons

Rose would have loved an 'ode to rhubarb'; I opted for an ode to seasons because my personal relationship with rhubarb has not inspired an ode-worthy response. 
Maybe, however, after trying her Rhubarb-strawberry Scone recipe (which looks amazing), 
I might burst forth in a rhubarb-hallelujah ode😋

They rouse in humankind the luxury of ‘likelihood’
We wait, like children at a gate; they garnish field and wood
…and orchard slopes and garden nooks with hope’s rekindled flame
As season yields to season; each with its own claim to fame

Time’s invitation to glad expectation is a gift
An elemental kaleidoscope of colour set adrift
Where we, the meek recipients of nature’s bursting loom
Collect ribbons of rainbow tossed to fruit and flower-plume

Ho, ho, the ebb and flow of dawn to dusk turns a grand wheel
It seals with hold-and-letting-go fond echoes to a reel
Where, in thought’s tender looking back we learn to look ahead
And revel in each season’s joy rather than doleful dread

The lamplighter of laughter through the aftermath of years
Keeps the hunger of youth intact though its face disappears
And keens with humble, holy gratefulness our touch and taste
Knowing how soon the boon of Season yields to moment-haste 

A free-for-all fine festival of fare to celebrate
A work of art to cheer the heart or common dinner plate
A Hallelujah-hymn, where branches brim then dim until
The barren tree etched on rose dusk rouses a sad, sweet thrill

© Janet Martin

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Mr. May or May-cents...

Mr. May is one of those guys we wish
we could grab by his coat-tails
and pinch them in the door so he’ll stay a while longer…

Each treetop wears a chartreuse crown and gown of glorious green
A chattering of yellow rambles through yard, field and fence
Where ev’ry frond is like a prince and ev’ry flow’r a queen
And ev’ry moment, like a shiny come-and-spend-me cents

The birthplace of man’s woe wears wonder’s gladdest grin-and-bear
The air pours heaven’s elixir through skin and bone to hearts
And hope is like a pansy’s pretty smile, from ear to ear
The breeze sighs ‘snow is but a dream’ after winter departs

Earth’s living-room of bird and bloom and grass and garden nooks
Delights the very least of us with life’s most lovely joys
Heaven can wait when May opens its gates of warbling brooks
And all the things we hungered for beneath white-wreathed decoys

May makes us mindful of perennial truth; storms come to pass
And ‘nothing stays the same for long’ oh, look, first flowers fall
Where pageantry of posies pours through Time’s primed hour-glass
And soon the petal-snows of summer strew halls, autumnal  

© Janet Martin

To-do List

Some to-do lists, if we keep busy are not too hard...

(Hopefully on this almost-June day we can find lots of outdoor chores!)
This is a super-duper perk of childcare!
Lots of outdoor 'chores'...

...some to-do lists are impossible on our own!

But in action and truth
In both older age and youth
In meek and gentle grace
Like He who answered not a word
And unjustly accused, yet gave
The gift of His own life
A bleeding sacrifice

Yet never count the cost
So many are still lost
He in our very selves achieved
To never try to understand
Whose love is mercy’s chief demand

Then come what may we know
From He who loves us so
We hear; To love, love, love
Lest ‘form of godliness’ veneer
Denies the power thereof
To never underestimate
To holy King of kings

To live as if this day He made
For what is never Past
Before Forever-ness
To touch Time’s stretch of holy ground
With sacred mindfulness
To praise the Name of He who gave
To bear in mind that earthy grave

© Janet Martin