May Day

These are the days that disappear into thin air in what feels like no time at all!

A glimpse at today's sparkle of bliss...

This morning's air was a bit cool and drizzle-dazzled. 

This afternoon the sun's warmth and 'bright, blue skies' returned in fine friendliness

immediately making me feel very busy and a bit behind!

Worked in the garden until it was too dark to see...(no pics)😐

this morning every bloom was frosted with diamonds!

New Grandson's first visit to Grandma's house...

Happy 1 week old!

He has a very keen and cute admirer!

Pumpkin-Raisin muffin snack...

Picked a pot o' posies...

These are the days winter-dreams are made of

Green grass beneath and bright blue sky above

Afternoon air flares with happiest joys/noise

Birdsong and chat of carefree girls and boys

Flowers flaunt glitter of raindrop rhinestones

Bowers a-twitter with myriad tones

Apple tree blushes, blossom-ecstasy

Lilacs burst into a star-symphony

Gardens are playgrounds for dreams and bare feet

Duty is sacred and labour is sweet

Hope is a river that runs through the heart

Each day of May like a work of fine art

Nature's inheritance humbles the meek

These are the days of God's kiss on earth's cheek 

© Janet Martin

Female rose-breasted Grosbeak (identified by my Birder-friends on FB)

This male caught my eye (it's okay. it's a bird) 😅😉

because its back-feathers seemed more variegated than some

Turns out its cause he's young!😇

Petal-Mettle

 

Mainly I keep this apple tree

to enjoy the delight of its 'petal-mettle'💗

Sometimes I like to linger where

Whisper of blossoms tease the air

To lie beneath its sigh and drink

The lullaby of petal pink

To marvel at the loyal flow

Of nature’s royal color-show

Cupped in each bud and seed until

God’s tug unfolds its miracle

Sometimes the pen is not equipped

To spell the swell of looms, pink-tipped

The lyrics of first bloom, breeze-stirred

Eloquent without woo of word

I sense, where blossoms gleam and nod

Love letters, handwritten by God

Where soon its flower-ink will be

Showers of petal confetti

Sometimes I sing and leap and laugh

At the joy of God’s autograph

For earth and its fulness thereof

Runs rife with signatures of love

© Janet Martin

Bitty Worship Ditty

 

How grand to stand and gaze firsthand upon a land washed clean

Lackluster lea and tree reclad in filigree of green

How lovely to drink in the view renewed by hues, God-spun

And worship He whose majesty will never be outdone

© Janet Martin

Revelation 4:11

Worthy are you, our Lord and God, 

to receive glory and honor and power, 

for you created all things, 

and by your will they existed and were created.”

Bitty ditty today because to-do list keeps growing...

May has the most time-sensitive task list of all the months, I think!

...and i didn't put 'snuggle new baby' on the list because that's not a task😍💖

May Morning Masterpiece...

Earth throbs with God's poetry on this mint-tinted May morning...

A quiet color riot flaunts

May morning’s mint-kissed ambiance

A sacred glimpse of paradise

Unfolds its hints before our eyes

Where perfect pleasure has begun

To spill earth’s treasure, flower-spun

Where song sparrow lilts rippling lays

To He who grants spring’s glory day

Where frond of fresh foliage imparts

A pink pendant of bleeding hearts

Where green in multi-splendored swells

Immerses hills, trees, fields and dells

Where we are like surfers astride

The virgin wave of morning-tide

Where we should never take in vain

This day that will not pass again

But let the heart that we lift up

Be tender as a tulip-cup

And let love’s calls of duty brim

With joy for the beauty of Him

Who fills the barrenness of earth

With May morn’s masterpiece of birth

© Janet Martin

John 1:3 - 

All things were made by him; 

and without him was not any thing made that was made.

 

Where May Runs Footloose...

So much to inspire this little tribute to May

and childhood...

The first two lines of this poem were birthed here, yesterday

while on a little brook-bank picnic with Granddaughter and daughter...

While half-leaf tree limbs splashed a shawl of shadow-holes over us.

So little left wanting where brook-babble gleams

With nothing but nature to nurture daydreams

Listening to lyrics no pencil can trace

Sprawled on a shadow-shawl of first-leaf lace

Watching the mantle return to the wood

Gently relearning the joy of childhood

So little left needing where May-breezes strum

The pulses of earth where all birth burgeons from

...thrum of an orchestra's ballad imparts

Green-gilded gladness that streams through our hearts

Seed that soon spills into tassels of corn

Dapples the hills of a landscape reborn 

So little left slighted where May runs footloose 

 Each tree like a taper of gold and chartreuse 

Each dell like a marvelous medley of hymns

Where the bare branch blossoms and the bud brims

Annual Genesis, granting a glimpse

Of Eden's garden and love's innocence  

© Janet Martin

Annual Genesis, granting a glimpse

Of Eden's garden and love's innocence...

"M-m-m! I eat it" said two year old when I told her Janet

is planting Candy onions...

 So little left slighted where May runs footloose 

 Each tree like a taper of gold and chartreuse ...

On this weekend's to-do list-- dusting😐

Seeds that soon spill into tassels of corn

Dapples the hill of a landscape reborn ...

May Morning Melody

Psalm 62:5-8

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from him.

6 Truly he is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

7 My salvation and my honor depend on God[c];

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

8 Trust in him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge.

Earth's table trembles 

with glimmers

of May's magical 

bloom-buffet...

With love’s mercies kindly given

And love’s mercies still to come

Pray we may be humbly driven

To He who our help/hope is from

We will never be forsaken

By the One who grants life’s worth

By He whose pure whispers waken

Nature’s plumes to clothe the earth

While time’s bubble full of trouble

Groans with mortal’s menial woe

Midst its mayhem and its rubble

By the grace of God we go

By the grace that authors flowers

By the grace that hears our plea

What a wondrous grace is ours

Grace that sets death’s captive free

In spite of calloused rejection

And the naïve wants we prize

Grace bends earth with birth’s redemption

And the darkness with sunrise

Threads the loom of breathless bowers

With summer’s glad symphonies

Hark! The limb grace strummed with showers

Bursts into a hymn of leaves

Bursts into a newborn garden

Bursts into first green and gold

Bursts into the perfect pardon

Of spring after winter’s cold

With such mercies kindly given

And such mercies still to come

Pray we may be humbly driven

To He who our help/hope is from

© Janet Martin

Psalm 121:1-2

...where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

Farewell, Sweet May

 

Farewell, sweet belle, the dell is feathered with gold willow-down

The apple-orchard petals dazzle us, then drift, wind-blown

The dust of planting season settles in a green-spun mist

And dandelion-sunbeams turn to haloes silver-kissed

The garden holds the hope of brimming baskets, harvest-heaped

The meadow is the colour of a cup of tea, mint-steeped

The flower border burgeons with the beginning of blooms

Where all through May we sensed the whir of Mother Nature’s looms

The brook is full of minnows teased by Little Boy’s bare feet

The air is full of melodies of chirp and tweet-tweet-tweet

The pasture is a picnic blanket spread ‘neath heaven’s arch

Where dawn to dusk is longer than it was in middle March

Each day is like an invitation everyone receives

A gladness-celebration for the loveliness of leaves

The barren limb is laden with the hymns that you compose

A lush and plush percussion where the pleasant zephyr flows

Farewell, sweet belle, you did your part to make the heart rejoice

You spilled your pansy font and filled the bowers with your voice

Farewell, sweet belle, you always seem to disappear so soon

But we are not too blue because you always bring us June

© Janet Martin

May Hem (or, is it Heaven's Hem?)

 a glimpse of today's inspiration

It dapples puddles beneath feet

Of laughter innocent and sweet...

It washes shorelines with a song

We have not heard in far too long...

To soak in nature-sculpted nooks

And watch the fisher trawling brooks...

A bolt of fabric, (or, a jolt of magic) flower-spun...

Unrolls beneath the beaming sun

Through bowers burgeoning, bright green

With glints of gold splashed in between...

It washes shorelines with a song

We have not heard in far too long

It decks fruit trees with blossom-show

Then flecks the foliage below

With soundless storms of petal snow

A bolt of fabric, flower-spun

Unrolls beneath the beaming sun

Through bowers burgeoning, bright green

With glints of gold splashed in between

Where long a cold white sash had been

A rush like rivers on the air

Flows through flushed woodland’s lofty flare

While shadow-pools deepen until

There are no shallows left to fill

Beneath the arc where whispers spill

It tickles silver-sparkling streams

Rekindles garden-dinner dreams

Planted in carrots, taters, corn

The heart feels like the world at morn

With vigor, vim and verve reborn

Ancient and stalwart, lilacs frill

The fringes of hollow and hill

They dot the land, like faithful guards

Keeping vigil over graveyards

And feet-forsaken boulevards

Its hemline skims the luring banks

Where people loll in easy thanks

With picnic baskets, blankets, books

To soak in nature-sculpted nooks

And watch the fisher trawling brooks

It dapples puddles beneath feet

Of laughter innocent and sweet

It is a butterfly, a bird

A poem without form or word

A sense of dust that childhood stirred

Is it Heaven or May that trails

Its hemline over rills and vales

To waken bracken, tightly curled

Like fists of green softly unfurled

To weave a winsome wonderworld

© Janet Martin

To waken bracken, tightly curled

Like fists of green softly unfurled...