Tuesday, July 31, 2018


Lest life’s labyrinth of longing
Weaves a cleaving copse of vines
In a place beneath the face that
Exhibits visual designs

Lest the fabric-work of failure
Chokes us with its hidden thread
Lest the siege of silent sorrow
Fills faith’s humble hope with dread

Lest love’s heart and soul commitment
Battles barriers in vain
And the dominance of Duty
Wields its warfare without gain

Lest the load life deems we shoulder
Breaks more than our backs today
We should never touch dawn’s tarmac
Without bowing first to pray

…then the Captain of these squadrons
Bearing deathless souls within
Heartens those who truly trust Him
For the forgiveness of sin

Pacifies the cries of longing
Frees us from failure’s despair
Breaks the siege of silent sorrow
As God's Mercy meets man's prayer 

Ah, now we can fight temptation
Find fresh courage for Now-Here
Invisible restoration
As we pray, faith conquers fear

© Janet Martin

 Be joyful in hope,
patient in affliction,
faithful in prayer.


Some storms are simply not calmed as quickly or visibly as yesterday's 'bean-storm'.
 (the joys of a week away from the garden...)

Saturday, July 21, 2018

Off For An Extended Coffee-break!

 R&R Time!
Sea you soon😊

(Hoping for less opportunity for shots like these this year!)
Trying to be optimistic in spite of this!

And biking
Ignoring the clock
And writing
Coffee on the dock
Me and you
Ah, holidays
And sea-gull
And thanks-full
Of praise

And swimming
And soaking up rest
Time out
With family
Is life and love's best
And after
This chapter is penned
That never end

© Janet Martin

Friday, July 20, 2018

Summer-lovers Prayer

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time. John Lubbock
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/summer

 Summer Afternoon, 
Summer Afternoon.
To me those have always been 
the two most beautiful words 
in the English Language
Henry James~

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time. John Lubbock
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/summer

Lord, let me live to touch and taste
Each day with purpose and intent
The clock tick-tocks with subtle haste
Soon favourite summer-days are spent

Lord, let me not look back and cry
Alas, alack and then lament
With wishful woulda-shoulda sigh  
These favourite summer days now spent

Lord, let me have and hold, for oh
We know how swift Time folds its tent
And insists on our letting go
Of favourite summer days soon spent

© Janet Martin

But Why Indeed

I still chuckle when I recall the computer-repairman's most bewildered look
when I asked  him to 'please,be careful not to lose 'those files'...'
as he scrolled and scrolled through pages of titles. 
"What is this?" he asked, and when I told him 'its poetry!'
 he replied with an incredulous, "but...WHY?!"

Why poetry?!...
Or else we might forget how dawn spread over lawn, hill, field and dell
And blushed away deep shades of gray that kept the day at bay a spell
…how avenues of golds and blues sandwiched July’s hues in between
After the birth of greenest earth lost its first mirth, luster and sheen
Or how the tug of farewell hugs makes us cherish the Now we see
As we recall how soft the shawl of spring-to-fall slips from the tree
And wraps a gown of womanhood around the girl of yesterday
Kisses the freckles from her face; chases through raven locks, stray gray

We might forget thick buttered bread; how we would sink our teeth in it
And savor every single crumb not minding calories a bit
Or the sweet heart-skip-a-beat-start when we were sweethearts green and keen
A poem helps us to be kissed by the soft mist of what has been
And teaches us to cherish more the swinging door of here, then gone
It paints a flower garden in the middle of white winter’s lawn
And stirs the mind of man to think on He who orders nature’s law
It is a language snared in ink to link the reader to life’s awe

A poem is a parchment rose; it cheers the one who lingers where
The turn of pages might expose a petal someone tucked in there
To press its happiness into a memento of summer when
We lingered long and never knew we would not walk that path again
A poem cups the silver splay of water-diamonds sun-bejeweled
It gathers up this day-to-day and pours Yore’s Vintage, echo-fueled
It draws us to consider He who ‘giveth and taketh away
And causes us with sober Thus to prepare for the Judgement Day

A poem is a gallery of artwork concealed in a book
And when we wander there we find a warrior, a wind-strummed brook
A Boy with a dog roaming through wonderlands strewed with wild blue-strife
A Man who proves how Influence impacts the way he looks at life
Or else perhaps black silhouette of lone pine etched on eventide
A sea-worn sailor’s tales, a cottage-home, sweet home, a blushing bride
A poem, why indeed; ink-blood of soul, of sky and sea and sod
Comes down to this; ultimately a poem grants glimpses of God

© Janet Martin

...this is one of those poems that has the potential to go on for miles, but Duty Beauty calls!
Today's call looks a lot like a lot of beans!

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Extra-Glad (as taught by Winnie-the-Pooh and crew)

Have you enjoyed the extra-glad happiness and humour of Pooh lately?
(another child-care perk, Winnie-the-Pooh stories and movies!) 

It’s funny how the honey-pot, when it has been refilled
Tastes sweeter than before we knew the hunger-pangs of love
For money cannot buy The Thing that leaves the heart fulfilled
Life’s ‘extra-glad’ we covet most, not in ‘stuffs’ treasure-trove

The clink of coin for all it boasts can never satisfy
Its friendship is a calloused host compared to words like ‘we’
And lunch is such a happy world when shared twixt you and I
The extra-glad of life as simple as a pot of tea

…then when the sky is July blue and earth is July gold
And we remember once again Best Gifts in life are free
And when the world is full of so much beauty to behold
It makes us extra-glad for ears to hear and eyes to see

Ah, Winnie-the-pooh, you keep the child in us from growing old
And help us to remember what matters along life’s way
How ‘smackerels of honey’ hold more smiles than moneyed gold
When shared with friends, the extra-glad in each and every day

© Janet Martin