Showing posts with label Friday Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friday Thoughts. Show all posts

Friday, September 6, 2019

Of Miracles, Music and Moments....




Moved by the miracles of bloom and birth from earth’s vast vault of ‘Wow
It makes the commonest of noons feel like a Masterpiece somehow
And turns complaint to Shame-on-Me for who are we but fellowmen
With call to bear each other’s care and make the sad heart glad again

Moved by the music of the rain that thrums the laneway note by note
They pelt then melt in mirror-panes and little lakes where leaf-boats float
Like golden gondolas that seem to drift at ease but tug-tug-tug
Until the Very Thing that Is slips through the grip of hug-hug-hug

Moved by the moment always meting so much more than meets the eye
Something about the clout of clocks makes tick-tock seem more like good-bye
Or is it hello that murmurs like cello-solos through ramparts
Where miracles, music and moments tune the tides that move our hearts

© Janet Martin

Even in the silence we sense the essence of cello-strain...






Friday, September 16, 2016

Allow Me, Said The Morning...






Allow me, said the morning as she gently took my hand
Today, because no one has been here is a foreign land
And I, fresh from the touch of God cannot contain my joy
Where hope’s cup runneth over with new moments to employ

Ah, let me introduce you (before shadows intercede
And dusk becomes the fellow that draws shut what dawn decreed)
To this anointing readied, not by mortal mien, but God
And how its grant is steadied by far more than shores of sod

Hark to the melody that tumbles from heaven to earth
Where dark is never deeper than ‘ahoy’ of new day’s birth
See, how the worth of what we do is more than gold or fame
But all about the love whereby we tender our claim

Surely goodness and mercy reigns, not fear and hate and doubt
From hill and hollow, rill and plain weather-veined legions shout
Earth rings with praise to He whose grace succours the eastern brim
Allow me, said the morning, to join you and worship Him

© Janet Martin


Another last-day-of-the-work-week hails! 
What do you plan to do before this last-Friday-before-Fall is folded forever?
After I bake a carrot cake for Dad’s 75th birthday celebration tomorrow night 
I hope to work outside this whole sunny, summer day long!
Wishing you a wonder-full whatever-this-day brings! 

p.s. Don't forget to walk in the moonlight tonight. It promises to be a BIG one(moon, that is:)!

Friday, August 26, 2016

The Best There Is To Do



Ho-hum, I said under my breath this morning as I viewed a mental mountain.
'What did you say?' asked Matt, heading out the door to work with fresh-made lunch, fresh coffee and fresh ice-water.
'Oh, I just said ho-hum' I replied...


The Best There Is To Do wears humble threads of spoil and toil
Ho-hum, ho-hum we say as we purview its Want displayed
And sometimes we are almost overwhelmed with mundane moil
Therefore we ought not to pursue it until we have prayed

The Best There Is To Do is living proof that we are blessed
Pity the one who has no one to multiply life’s care
For though sometimes the weight of it seems an endurance test
Surely the Lord will grant us strength if we seek Him in prayer

If we have mouths to feed and means with which to earn our bread
If we have hands to touch and hold The Much of much ado
Then it behooves us, in each day to humbly bow the head
And thank God for the gift that gives The Best There Is To Do

© Janet Martin

Actually, in a bit of reconsideration of the last stanza, it behooves us to bow our heads and give thanks. period. there are no 'ifs' in thanking God. 

 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.
Ps. 107:1

Happy Blessed Friday. 
I'm off to rearrange some of the above photos;-)

With love and prayers 
for all of our poetry wainting (waiting/wanting) to be written,
Janet~

Friday, March 15, 2013

Friday Thoughts



 

It’s Friday
And with the laundry
We fold another week
To our breast
Where soon its cup of
Laughter, loving
And trifling toil will rest

It’s Friday
Another week of memories
Gathers where
We linger to finger
Its brush-strokes on the air
Knowing in our heart
Rests living’s most priceless art

It’s Friday
And the beauty
Of what was, rivals
With the hope
Of what is to be
Before another Friday comes
To take its place
In history

© Janet Martin


Good or bad
Happy or sad
Soon this day will be
A memory

I'm writing this midst chatting with my older two daughters as we wake up over coffee (a sweet moment because we almost never get up at the same time:)

...also, here's to hoping today’s memories will include the kids helping me clean;)) We’ve all had lots of fun this March break week, now it’s time for some good, down-to-earth living.OXOX.

Dear hubby, someday these past few weeks will be nothing but ‘in those years when I had that truck…It’s been a truck/year of high frustration and financial strain for him and the company he works for!


Friday, September 14, 2012

Friday Thoughts on Perfection





So much in this world
Is marred and scarred
Perfection is hard to find
But it exists
In spite of us
If love is kind and blind

***

Perfection...
 It whimpers in wee babies
So pure and undefiled
It shines in faith implicit
In the eyes of a child 

***

Autumn gathers the remnants
Of a summer spent and spilt
It tucks her sighs into the sod
Beneath fall’s perfect quilt

***


Though spring has dawned for centuries
Not one evades its duty
It wakens all the blooms and trees
To perfect virgin beauty

***

I have held perfection
It’s the tender-sweet blend
Of steadfast reflection
In the thought of a friend

***

God sent Perfection to the cross
To pay for us sin’s price
Now imperfection stands in awe
Of  Love’s great sacrifice
And imperfection dares to dream
Of one glad perfect day
When this blemished and sin-scarred frame
Will finally pass away 

***

Ink signatures cannot endorse
The validation of remorse
Forgiveness flows, not in a pen
But in the blood of Perfection
We cannot annul our guilt
In anything but Christ’s blood spilt

***

There is a perfect song
Spilling from the rain
It taps its percussion
On my windowpane

***

Darling, whisper to me
The brush of your kiss
Binds small imperfections
Into love’s perfect bliss

***

There's something pure and simple
In the song of the rain
It falls like an anthem
Of love's perfect pain

Janet~


Friday, August 24, 2012

August Friday Thoughts




May I never be the reason
My children cannot see
Jesus; because they are unable
To see Him shining through me

***


Abide with me
I cannot see
Without Thy faithful Light
Each step I take
Is no mistake
If I walk in Thy might

Abide with me
The enemy
Seeks souls doubting and weak
Faith’s mustard seed
Is all I need
To reach the mountain’s peak

***


Dare to be different
Do not count the cost
Lest we drift in a crowd
That is blind, base and lost

Dare to be different
Like Daniel of old
Lest we reach the Judgment
With only fool’s gold

***

Train up a child
In the way he should go
It’s much harder to train
An adult, you know

***

Before your thought
Spills into a word
Make sure its lot
Is fit to be heard

***

Why standest thou jealously gazing
Into thy neighbor’s field?
Take heed, thou slothful servant
Lest envy taints thy yield

***

If we rejoice when they rejoice
And weep when they must weep
Then we will be the kind of friend
Our friends desire to keep

***

Farther along on this journey of life
We cannot know what a-waits
But this; beyond love’s tender strife
Gleam Heaven’s shining gates

***

Deeper than the stains of sin
Flows love’s amazing grace
Hallelujah, what a Savior
Suffered in our place

***

 The earthly rags
Of love’s humility
Are leading
To the riches of
A heavenly garment

Janet Martin~

 Let us not become weary in doing good, 
for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Gal. 6:9




Friday, August 3, 2012

Thoughts and Poemlets for Friday Thoughts



When we come to the end
Of our answers
We begin
The journey of faith

***

How swiftly comes
The turning page
A day, a month, a year
And as we cross
Its phantom stage
Of fortune, faith or fear
We realize
This fleeting leap
Offers no guarantee
But one
There is no plural
In the word eternity

Death does not seek
Simply the old
Not one of us can know
How many pages
We will turn
Before we’re called to go
Life is a gift
As is God’s love
His grace and mercy, free
We ought to call on Him
Before
That word; eternity

***

Gather your complaints in a bucket
And bury them deep in the sod
Gather your cares, your heartaches and fear
And carry them in prayer, to God

***

A storm is not forever
Only the Hand beneath it

***

We cannot comprehend the Love
That tries us in our sorrows
Faith is the mystic substance of
His hope for our tomorrows
We cannot glimpse the best of Him
In prosperity’s bubble
We only see the rest of Him
Until He sends us trouble

***


If I feel no ache for the hungry
Should I yet eat?
If I feel no sorrow for the lost
Am I yet found?
If I feel no pity for the weak
Dare I think myself strong?
Shall I yet rejoice?
If I do not pray for the fallen
Do I stand?
If I do not recognize need
Can I yet recognize greed?
If I cannot master thought
Will thought be my master?
If I cannot love God first
Can I yet love?

***

Thank-you God for morning
Un-splattered; a new sheet
Before I leave a footprint, Lord

© Janet Martin



Friday, July 20, 2012

Today's Friday Thoughts~




I wish to know when I am old
My legacy is not fool’s gold
Treasure stored each day I live
Is not in what I keep, but give

***

How hard it is to pry clenched fists
But harder still to see
The blessing they have surely missed
By clenching vanity

***

‘Speak Lord, your servant is listening’
Came Samuel’s firm reply
I wonder what we say to Him
When He calls you and I

***

With i-phones and cell-phones
And head-phones and such
I wonder if we still hear
God very much

***

Moments are the ripples
On life's rising, falling sea
One over takes another 
And is never-more to be

Janet Martin