Love Letter from a Father

Today's poem-prompt form Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer's Digest:

For today's prompt, write a persona poem.

 A persona poem is just a poem narrated in the voice of a persona who is not yourself.

Because I grant no guarantees

I tick and tock, I fly and chime...

Dear You, proprietor of dreams

And plans, that I alone estrange

Where, no matter the age, it seems

Human Nature will never change

Dear You, I'd like to, if I may

Before I take you by surprise 

And what now seems secure, falls prey

To resting places I disguise   

I'd like to remind you to pause

And ponder well, all I have lent

Making the most of Now, because

You never know when I am spent

Futile to want what Bygone seals

Or wish for what may never be

Better the hour that still peals

With fleeting opportunity 

Some think that I am on their side

And live as if I thought so too

But I am the taut, tender tide

 That tugs and tolls with dust and dew 

No respecter of persons, I

Am but a servant too, you see

Morning, noon, night is my reply

To a Higher Authority

Before it is to late to give

What I cannot, when 'we' have passed

I want to remind you to live

As if each day could be your last

Because I grant no guarantees

I tick and tock, I fly and chime

My legacy, your memories,

Yours duly, truly, 

Father Time

© Janet Martin

For All the Ways of Wonderful...

Yesterday's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer's Digest

For today's prompt, write a homonym poem.

I began this post yesterday morning before Duty Beauty hailed...

The brook gurgles and bursts with lays

That sparkle to the sea...

The robin, quite industrious

Flits to and fro, intent...

From backroads to main thoroughfares

And all points in between

The landscape tosses fresh manes, fair

In dashing hues of green

The woodland wears an air of wealth

The wares of nature, free

For all to drink to our health

From founts of leaf-primed tree

Spring gushes from a trillion springs

Earth’s wakened deluge streams

Where bare branch bears from supple strings

A rush of bud-requiems

The robin, quite industrious

Flits to and fro, intent

In spite of housewife’s threat and fuss

To build nest in the vent

The brook gurgles and bursts with lays

That sparkle to the sea

To see the birds and hear their praise

Births praise in you and me

…for yellow frill of daffodil

For silver raindrop waltz

For purple pansy-violet thrill

For deep, blue, welkin vaults

For pastel-pink of blossom tulle

For sunbeam’s golden kiss

For all the Ways of Wonderful

Spring weighs our gaze with bliss

In beauty of both earth and sky 

In heaven-hints unfurled

Without reserve, from God on high 

To all the wooing world 

© Janet Martin

Isa.40:22

He sits enthroned above the circle of the earth;

its dwellers are like grasshoppers.

He stretches out the heavens like a curtain,

and spreads them out like a tent to dwell in.

click HERE to read in full Isa. 40, entitled Here is Your God

…for yellow frill of daffodil

For deep, blue, welkin vaults

For all the Ways of Wonderful

Spring weighs our gaze with bliss

On Living Life to the Max

Today's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer's Digest;

For today's prompt, write a maximum poem...

We never know what a day will bring

so let's live each one to the max!

 These past few evenings have been spent

 in the barn next door...

It reminded me of a song from my youth..

esp. this line

'it's nice to think about it, maybe even visit,

but I wonder, could I live there anymore'.

because

Farming is very serious business these days,

and not for the faint of heart.

Charley Pride -- Wonder Could I Live There Anymore

let's live life to

its precious max,

work hard, love kindly,

run, relax

push, pull, pray, play

smile, sing, give thanks

make the most of

spring-green creek banks 

pick buttercups

plant seeds, sip tea

engage in

real-time poetry 

aware of the

far-reaching way

of deeds we do 

and words we say

where finding joy

is no secret 

the more we give

the more we get

where happiness

holds out its key

...to make the most

of you and me

so, let's live life

to its lent max

the same up front

as behind backs

© Janet Martin

Col.3:23

And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men,

Sadness

Today's prompt for poem-a-day from Robert Lee Brewer offers endless options!!

For today's prompt, pick an emotion, 

make it the title of your poem, 

and write your poem.

My Faith Looks Up To Thee

 It bleeds from my eyes

How it aches in my soul

It authors heart-cries

Where death leaves a large hole 

It bids me to fly

To the hills of God's Word

And like David, cry

'My help comes from the Lord'

© Janet Martin

Ps.121:1-2

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

 My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

I Need Thee Every Hour

It Would Be Easy To Despair...or Hope's Great Counterclaim

Today's poem prompt from Robert Lee Brewer:

For today's prompt, write a pessimistic poem.

***

I shared the verse below on yesterday's post HERE

I am sharing it again today because it felt

like a divine reminder when I needed it most!

Psalm 116:13

I will lift up the cup of salvation

and call on the name of the Lord.

(read the whole glorious chapter HERE)

Sometimes I forget...

The cup of salvation and the name of the Lord

supply every need!

Hallelujah and thank-you, dear Savior!

Sometimes I forget, happiness in this world

is not the end goal!

(But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness;

 and all these things shall be added unto you-Matt.6:33)

(dear readers, not from this community.

I am mourning the loss of a neighbour and friend,

a mother to three children, very dear to my heart

who used to be in my childcare,

and who still visit on a let's-go-for-a-walk-to-Janet-whim💓

bearing gifts of farm fresh eggs, cheese, fresh cookies, etc.

and always so much love.)

In times of tragedy it could be easy to lose heart,

but through Christ, we have Hope's great counterclaim to despair!

Sharing a few recent YouTube uploads to cheer us on

I Set My Hope on Jesus

 

God of Every Grace

All Things-Sovereign Grace Music

It would be easy to despair

To be crushed beneath weight of care

Where the world at large has gone mad

Testing the quests that make us glad

It would be easy to lose sight

Of faith's position of delight

If we fixate on what we see

Of suffering's great misery

It would be easy to fall prey

To gloom and doom's cheerless dismay

It seems like Satan's bag of tricks

Has left a world no one can fix 

It would be easy to believe

The one whose hate aims to deceive

To plant a seed of doubt, to lure

Us from God's promises secure 

It would be easy to lose heart

As we watch the world fall apart

Because of the rejection of

God's Cornerstone of Truth and Love

It would be easy to give in

Crushed by consequences of sin

Without salvation's brimming cup

It would be easy to give up

...ah, here we find Hope's Deathless Rose

Salvation's cup still overflows

Redemption's flood still runs between

The part we see and the Unseen 

For this is not the Destiny

This is The Joy that Waits To Be

Lift up your eyes, behold the Yet

That we are so prone to forget

Remember, God is good and kind

He opens eyes, otherwise blind

Do not lose heart, do not despair

Time, but the path we pave/brave with prayer

© Janet Martin

2 Pet. 1:3-4

His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness 

through the knowledge of Him who called us by His owna glory and excellence.

  4Through these He has given us His precious and magnificent promises, 

so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature,

 now that you have escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.

Matthew 5:11-12

Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you,

 and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. 

12 Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, 

for great is your reward in heaven, 

for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Ps.122:1

I was glad when they said to me,

“Let us go into the house of the LORD.”

John 15:9-11

As the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you. 

Remain in My love.

10If you keep My commandments, you will remain in My love, 

just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and remain in His love.

  11I have told you these things so that My joy may be in you 

and your joy may be complete.

Today Would Be Your Birthday...(or, Treasured Legacy)

Today's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer.

For today's prompt, write a living poem.

Today and every day  is our

lifelong legacy in the making!

Let's make it treasure-able💝

This poem is about a Treasured Legacy I inherited

simply by being her granddaughter!!

Both of my gramma's birthdays were in April,

one on the 3rd, and one on the 13th!

(I hope a kind cousin or sibling corrects me if I got the dates confused...)

Today would be your birthday...

Caught by surprise...

I think if we would line up the stitches she sewed in her lifetime

they would reach to heaven and back

So many quilts and comforters for family and charity.

After her family was grown, so much mending

for her daughters and daughter-in-laws!

Her hands, when she was feeling well, were never idle!

My last 'family picture' of my grandparents.

She cared for our 'special Aunt' until she was no longer able

Then Special Aunt was welcomed into the homes of her siblings.

Today, would be your birthday

Dear Gramma, your legacy

Is the most treasured hand-me-down

That you have left for me

Life wasn’t always easy

Yet, your faithful un-complaint

Often made me wonder if you

Were a gram-disguised saint

Humble, frugal and generous

You treasured each grandchild (all forty-something of us!!)

And always made each one of us

Feel special when you smiled

Your sparkling eyes and helping hands

And wisdom-seasoned speech

Instilled within your precious ‘grands’

Sound truths for us to teach

Where now by time’s fleet sleight of hand

I am a gramma too

Trying to emulate the love-

-liness I learned from you

Trying to hand down memories

That, by God’s grace will be

In the heart of every grandchild

A treasured legacy

© Janet Martin

A few more Gramma mementos...

Like Old Postcards

Waste Not, Want Not

Waste not, want not

She said

as she shook the crumbs

from the bottom of a bread bag

for the birds

or her next casserole

placing the bag in a drawer for re-use

as she brought someone a freshly baked treat

Waste not, want not

She said

as she saved the yarn ends

to hang in trees

so the birds can have some color

in their nests too

Waste not, want not…

and rags were cut into strips

sewn together

and braided for mats (see picture above)

fabric scraps became comforters and quilts

for the needy

…or here and there perhaps a stuffed toy

Pie dough left-overs were scraped

from the counter-top and

put in a dish in the fridge

for next time

and seeds were collected from her garden

for next year

and empty spools were saved

for crafts and creations (see pictures above)

and she would tell me of their wedding

during the depression years

and how they had to choose

between either turnips or potatoes

for their meal

and how her aunt took a cherished vase

out of her china cupboard

and gave it to her

as a wedding gift

because there was no money

and then she would often repeat

‘He who does not value a penny

does not deserve a dollar’

She never heard

Reduce, reuse, and recycle

But she reminded me constantly

That no generation is immune

To hard times or want

As the root cellar was filled with

Preserves from her garden

I am glad to have known

This part of her

As I attempt to pass some of Grandma on

To the next generation

In waste not, want not

© Janet Martin

I am privileged to be living  in the house 

that belonged to one of the most beautiful people I ever knew;

 my Grandma.

And then, a new song uploaded today by two artists I LOVE,

fitting perfectly with today's prompt

Cycle  of Life

Best of the Blessed or Ignorant Bliss

Today's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer.

For today's prompt, write a living poem.

The lap of luxury, I think

Is a bottomless well of ink

A wildness in the untamed grace

Of what to some, seems commonplace

A keen awareness of The One

Whose Sovereignty can't be outdone 

As, from each breath that He so wills

A sense of unplumbed wonder spills

Surely, best-of-the-blessed are we

who see through eyes of poetry

who find in the grind of life's grit

a kind of awe, in spite of it

to kindle, through its thick and thin

a mighty ocean 'neath our skin

where teeming tempests tug and roll

and rush the regions of the soul 

evoking in its sweep and surge

a sense of living on the verge

of  breath-stealing discovery

where almost-poems wait to be

set free, beneath the poet's pen

by we, Best of the Blessed, Amen 

p.s. (and if this is not how it is

rob us not of ignorant bliss

Indulge our erring theory

For the fine sake of poetry

Leave us to mine the deepest sigh 

for joy that money cannot buy

where quests to tame and wrest the roar 

of waves before they meet the shore

requires more than meets the eyes

of all who have not heard the cries

of a poem adrift, at sea

doomed to endless obscurity 

without whispered lifelines, ink-spun

to draw them from oblivion)

© Janet Martin

The best poems have no words!

God's love language is a universal dialect!

Psalm 103:22

Bless the LORD, all His works in all places of His dominion.

Bless the LORD, O my soul!

Psalm 150:6

Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!

 Hallelujah!

A Funny Business, This

 Today's Poem-a-day challenge from Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer' Digest

'For today's prompt, write a funny poem.

Keep in mind that funny isn't always "ha-ha" funny.

For instance, your poem could include a funny smell

or talk about a funny (or weird) person or situation.

And if you've ever hit your funny bone,

that pain is not making anyone laugh.

So write a funny poem, whether it's for a laugh or not.'

The other evening it was man (woman) against nature

as the lawn rollers showed up before I was quite finished raking

up pine cones etc.! Nature won and woman got drenched

but lawn is raked and rolled! Happy dance!

There is something exhilarating about racing against a storm!

Akin to the exhilaration of being surprised by a kind of joy

we can only discover as we grow older!

The kind of joy only humble gratitude grants!

Gratitude for life's simple things.

Like...

Sunsets...(an hour after the storm)

Supper...

and so much more!

A funny business this;

The older that we get

The more we find joy in what is;

This, not forgotten yet 😂

A funny business this;

The sense that humour grants

Like nicknaming Father Time's kiss

Reliable Romance

Let's laugh; be young at heart

Let's refuse to bemoan

The canvas that showcases art

That rankles/wrinkles skin and bone

Let's not waste happiness

In worry or regret

For every day leaves one day less

Of reasons to forget  😶

Yes, there are pains and aches

Social life turns into 

Gatherings at funerals and wakes

As death collects its due

Honing humble surprise

A funny business this;

The best of life cut down to size

Is Gratitude's sweet bliss

© Janet Martin

Ps.90:12

Teach us to number our days, 

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Before Sentimental Surprise Took Me In Its Embrace...

poem-a-day challenge from Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer's Digest

For today's prompt, write a memory poem. 

My husband wants to get rid of

what he sees as a gnarly eye sore...

and I see as a work of art...

both Season-art and Memory-art.

maybe because another old apple tree 

from my childhood made me see this one

through wizened eyes...

This tree my Grandpa planted,

long before we bought it when we bought their house...

this tree my children climbed,

and now my grandchildren,

along with many others that passed through my care

Here's a bit of season-memory art...

I didn't know the apple tree 

of long ago would bend

With summer fruit, 

long after the pursuits

Of youth would end 

I didn't know the tree that taught

Us how to work and play

where apples fell 

like yellow snow

would never go away

...where mother's apron bulged as we

Helped fill its cotton cart

With pungent gold,

That we could hold

Forever in the heart  

Before I was blindsided by

Moment's momentous haste

 I thought that Time 

was on my side

With quite enough to waste

Before sentimental surprise

Took me in its embrace

And showed to me 

An apple tree

Is never commonplace

© Janet Martin

This photo and memory tidbit from a previous post HERE

The Harvest-apple tree on the old home place.
How well I remember its petal-snow,

before the dirt floor was covered in golden fruit, 

gathered up in our cotton-dress 'baskets'

 carried to the house for apple goodies, 

but mostly canned apple sauce.

Sometimes The Past Revisits Us

 poem-a-day challenge from Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer's Digest

For today's prompt, write a memory poem. 

The Past is not always done with

just because it was ages ago-

Third Girl, A Hercule Poirot Mystery by Agatha Christie

 Let's make the kind of memory that is second to none...

Jim couldn't resist the 'purple throne'😂💖

Sometimes, when I am feeling brave and strong, I gently trace

The outline of mementos that compile, year after year 

But, then I put them back where they belong; content to place

Them in Bygone's embrace, and concentrate on Now and Here 

Because time has a way of stealing seasons, still in hand

(How subtly they become part of what nothing can erase)

I want to feel the full force of Time's little tricks of sand

Composing the mementos that I sometimes gently trace 

Darling, the days that yet remain are dwindling one by one

Let's look each other in the eye, laugh more, indulge in love 

And make the kind of memory that is second to none

To gently trace, sometimes, when we feel brave and strong enough

Sometimes the Past revisits us, for better or for worse

Today is always new, rife with fresh opportunities

To bear in mind that which becomes a guest we bless or curse

Let's do our best to turn each day into fond memories

 © Janet Martin

A few sudden deaths recently,

 have reminded me of what I

 (not always, but sometimes)  

lose sight of;

 Us 💓