Monday, January 15, 2024

How The Plump Dove Fluffs Its Feathers (among a few other observations)


Happy, happy halfway through January 2024!!

Ps.145:9-10
The Lord is good to all; 
 he has compassion on all he has made.
All your works praise you, Lord;
your faithful people extol you.

How the plump dove fluffs its feathers with no need for looking glass...


How, if we look, we find much to be tenderly thankful for
How a good book adds a touch of passion to commonplace chore...
(more about below book Here: Homemaker's Prayer)


How a cup of tea is like a gentle, pick-me-upper hug...


How snow-stenciled scenery always gives my heartstring a tug...



How the plump dove fluffs its feathers with no need for looking glass
How love’s sentimental tether binds the present to the past
How spring, summer, fall and winter, Beauty cheers thought’s countenance
And how prayer’s flight is unhindered by season or circumstance

How we are awed, sweetly speechless by Nature’s Grand Orchestra
How God teaches and beseeches mortal worship through its law
How the creature is no match for the Creator; never was
Never will be; He is greater and deserves endless applause

How the measure of God’s pleasure steals the show without contest
How each new day grants the treasure of a fresh and untried quest
How laughter’s melodic mettle fills the air with seraphim
How the song of the tea kettle is my favorite kitchen hymn

How, if we look, we find much to be tenderly thankful for
How a good book adds a touch of passion to commonplace chore
How a cup of tea is like a gentle, pick-me-upper hug
How snow-stenciled scenery always gives my heartstring a tug

How in spite of so much sadness, gladness survives trouble’s gall
How, despite shape, height or status love is still One-size-fits-all
How a morning always rouses what has never been before
Mercy’s renewed summons wows us with God’s faithfulness once more

How, the howl of younger hunger slowly but surely succumbs
To a wizened, humbler wonder satisfied to savor crumbs
How at last we learn the secret to happiness, fit for kings
Not in gimme-gimme-reaches, but in joy of simple things

How, through loss we gain awareness of phrases like you-and-me
Cherishing the fragile rareness of fine words like ‘us’ and ‘we’
How, here we are cradled briefly between two eternities
One, that concerns the Soul chiefly, one of Bygone centuries

How an almost-poem’s tempo keens the poet’s appetite
How ink-swirls compose mementos of rhythm and rhymed delight
How the Bard, kindly encumbered with God’s charge to dredge blurred deeps
Probes the place where Ballad slumbers or Elusive Poem sleeps

How the Finesse of Forever wakes us to the wealth of Now
How the howling gale of winter makes home palatial, somehow
How we chuckle while the weather throws tantrums that never last
How the plump dove fluffs its feathers ready to face one more blast

© Janet Martin

(Below, the cardinal and Blue Jay pics are from my mother-in-law's house yesterday)


How spring, summer, fall and winter, Beauty cheers thought’s countenance...






Bird-watching bliss these days as the cold temps 
and snowy weather brings a feeding frenzy!









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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!