Until The Ink Runs Dry...

 Happy 19th Birthday, Victoria!

...leaving for work...

...with fresh-baked treats for her co-workers!

Trying To Find Words…

(for that which there seem no words for)

It’s hard to find the perfect lines

To ‘Daughter, let me count the ways’

A poem never quite defines

In full, what a mother’s heart says

Love is a lovely thing indeed

But often veils the breathless art

Of tides that tumble and recede

Across the shorelines of the heart

The ebb and flow of dawn to dusk

Steals mother’s little girls away

Her empty arms are full of love

Her heart with words she cannot say

Of tender hope and happiness

For you, so lovely, sweet and kind

Of humble pride and thankfulness

So intricately intertwined

So, though words falter on her tongue

It does not keep her prayers at bay

To love the Lord while you are young

To seek His wisdom and His way

To trust in Him with all Your heart

To learn how to follow His lead

Where faith is the most vital part

If we wish to truly succeed

It’s hard to tame love into lines

Or name unnumbered reasons why

But I will try unnumbered times

Until the ink of life runs dry

Happy 19^th Birthday, Victoria,

Love Mom

Hard to believe our 'baby of the family' is 19!!

Because of a late work-shift today we did the birthday dinner on Saturday.

What flavour of cake?

Lemon Layer Cake 

but alas! I forgot about candles. 

This did not please Grand-sonny at all!

A birthday cake without candles simply could not be 

so we rooted through drawers until we found 19 assorted tea-lights and votives.

(not pretty but THAT was beside the point😁)

 ...and now, the truth about why the candles were so important😀

 We are not sure who blew out most of them.😘

(sure wish this shot hadn't blurred!)

On Sunday we visited Melissa so she could share in the celebration too!

Victoria, we all love you!
Keep shining!

What You Cannot Know (through no fault of your own)

'You didn’t know me then', I sometimes say to my now grown children

 when we talk about something I used to do before they were born, 

such as drive to work at 4:00 a.m. on slippery wintery roads.

 All they know me as is mom who looks after a family’s practical needs!

 (my sis texted me this afternoon about these pages above

and more but you'll have to buy or borrow the book for the rest)😀

The Shape of a Year by Jean Hersey

I think because we have the same mother and we both have daughters

we relate to certain parts of this book on a very mutual level! 

One of my top ten favs ever!

My dear, you cannot understand (by no fault of your own)

How much your mother’s heart expands to hold children full-grown

Or how the girl she was is still a part of who she is

(no matter what changes because Time keeps its promises)

The heart you cannot fathom until you are old as she

Will always still be learning how to hold while setting free

Twixt yester’s child and today’s woman, man her love is torn

Where thankfulness and longing spar in whispers heaven-borne

Yes, she’s been disappointed at love’s disappointments, oh

At how the future is nothing like she dreamed long ago

As God so rich in mercy grants breath-stealing more or less

And teaches her to look closer at ‘what is happiness’

I did not understand back then (through no fault of my own)

How oft my mother’s heart landed before her Father’s throne

Or how once upon long ago my mother used to be

A barefoot maiden filled with dreams foot-loose and fancy-free

Before the call and cares of life joined love and motherhood

And still through all the joy and strife she knew that it is good

How all we did not understand is what waited to be

Sweet thrills of surprise at age-old, newfound discovery

…she waits for passion to become astonished at time’s way

No one can seize the pendulum that dictates night and day

But as the heart expands to hold what soon is left behind

The girl she was will remind her to be patient and kind

© Janet Martin

Once Upon a Mother's Love...

It's November. Writer's Digest's Poem-a-day prompt begins again!

For today’s prompt, write a once upon a time poem. 

With a change in pronouns this could be  'dad' or 'parents' poem as well
but because my dear mother turns 77 today, I wrote it for her.
The older she and I get, the more I cherish the person she is
and the more I realize how much I took for granted!)

(my mother, being of a meek and modest nature
might not object to one small pic of her peeking from behind some blooms)

Happy 77th, mom!

Oh, once upon a younger love

Before Time turned the page

That stirs revised collections of

A fond and foreign age

There, from a well of priceless ink

No child can comprehend

The poetry of childhood’s wink

Was unconsciously penned

Oh, once upon our mother’s prime

We spent her best of days

Oblivious to Father Time

And his insistent ways

We out-grew shoes and buttered bread

And learned to do our share

Blind to the sacrificial thread

That wove her loving care

Oh, once upon a simpler day

(We didn’t see it then)

While balancing work, play and pray

We became women, men

And looking back thanks often falls

Beyond the reach of word

Where once upon much greener halls

Childhood’s swift seasons blurred

…as once upon a mother’s love

Her fledglings learned to fly

Up, up, love's brave and tender shove

Propelled us to the sky

While we, intent upon the stars

Did not fathom her part

Until we bore love’s battle-scars

And wore a mother’s heart

© Janet Martin

Yesterday morning was our annual mom's birthday tea with my sisters and sister-in-laws;

ten of us in total and always a special time of food and fellowship

as we reconnect after a busy summer and plan for Christmas etc.

My contribution to the food was 

Oatmeal Raisin Pie

Mix and pour in unbaked 9" crust...

(handful of raisins sprinkled on crust optional)

1/4 cup melted butter

1/2 cup sugar

 3 eggs, beaten

1 cup oatmeal

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (and/or nutmeg)

1/4 teaspoon cloves

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup corn syrup

Bake approx. 45 min at 350F

Of The 'Commonplace'...

 Many are the times, whether as a young mother or a middle-aged mother and grandmother

I have gazed at loved ones and thought,

"I want to remember you exactly like this"

but I never do...

Time always replaces the old with the new

reminding me that what may seem like a common Monday morning mess really isn't at all!

I want to remember you

How you are right here, right now

But I know I never do

Time erases you somehow

Lending to love's subtle chase

New and precious commonplace

I, with all my best intent

Cannot seal upon fond gaze

Images of endearment

For Time cannot change its ways

Kissing to each form and face

Whole new frames of commonplace

I have dared to shake the cage

That insists upon its due

Futile to grapple with age

Time insists upon the new

Turning into treasured space

That which seemed so commonplace

Then, with kind humility

I will love with tender heart

This small part of you and me

Where the brush that grants its art

Leaves me breathless by the grace

Of ‘no such thing as commonplace’

© Janet Martin