Restoration-place

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.

 Rom.12:12

Some storms are simply not calmed as quickly or visibly as yesterday's 'bean-storm'.

 (the joys of a week away from the garden...)

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!

 Hiking

And biking

Ignoring the clock

Reading

And writing

Coffee on the dock

Barbecue,

Me and you

Ah, holidays

Lake-lull

And sea-gull

And thanks-full

Of praise

Canoeing,

And swimming

And soaking up rest

Time out

With family

Is life and love's best

Laughter

And after

This chapter is penned

Memory-

Keepsakes

That never end

© Janet Martin

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!

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