From Rent Reservoirs

Beauty and duty distractions kept me from my keyboard this morning...

but not from worship!

Surely the hour is an altar awaiting our sacrifice of praise!

Not difficult on a morning like today!

(I linked to the word brigantine in the poem

because grand-sonny wondered why grandma was looking at boat pictures)😊

He arrived while I was working on the first stanza

which is why my morning poem became an afternoon poem

...with a message that is wonder-full any time of day or night!

Once again, like yesterday, the sunrise was like listening to an orchestra...

From mercy’s boundless reservoir new morning meets its mark

On daybreak’s brigantine once more passengers reembark

Who knows what waits where welkin gates are grandly flung ajar

Where, only when time’s tide abates will we have won faith’s war

Heavens unfold the glory of love’s kind mercy renewed

Where we behold but fringes of unfathomed magnitude

Praise He who cups earth’s marbled globe in absolute control

And as we touch the hemline of His robe, He makes us whole

The train of the king’s glory fills the temple of the earth

Then tell the old, old, story of the Saviour’s lowly birth

Of how he left Perfection mankind’s sin-debt to atone

How, with His resurrection death and hell were overthrown

…and how all who believe in Him receive the gift of grace

Eternal life; no sentence grim when death’s dark door we face

Then come what may, where mercy’s kind compassion is renewed

We face the day with peace of mind and humble gratitude

...for He who rends dark yonder with a glimpse of Majesty

Where hearts thunder with wonder at whispers of 'let there be'

As mercy breaks the bower of the bud with crimson rose

And from a reservoir of love, God's goodness overflows

© Janet Martin

After the sun rose it disappeared for a little while...

...only to reappear with a sky-wide smile!

Sorry for so many pics 

but trying to pick only a handful out of a couple hundred wow-some photos

is no small joy-task!

Psalms 50:2 - 

Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, 

God hath shined.

Almost August...

 'Where harvest fields surrender yields that capture heart and eye'

'In the sheen of sunflowers beaming from sage-bristled stalks'

'Where gardens grin and we begin to gather in toil’s laud'

Its almost August; month of age-old accolades renewed

Where morning, ripe with golden sun highlights sweeps silver-dewed

Where harvest fields surrender yields that capture heart and eye

As crickets start to serenade the ending of July

It’s almost August; beauty-tones delight the commonplace

In purple loosestrife, chicory, yarrow and Queen Ann’s lace

Where gardens grin and we begin to gather in toil’s laud

As fruit and flower melodies spill through our touch to God

It’s almost August; heartstrings get tangled in hollyhocks

In the sheen of sunflowers beaming from sage-bristled stalks

In the keening awareness in each honey-suckle bloom

Of moments weaving echoes from the threads of summer’s loom

It’s almost August; hummingbirds and honey-bees abound

We take off shoes to stir the dust and dew of holy ground

To revel in the bevel of a bowl tipped upside down

To showcase blue, blue eons on a cloud-disheveled crown

It’s almost August; weep not for the parting but give thanks

For bloom-embellished garden paths and lily-laden banks

For arms we cannot see that draw and sweep us off our feet

As wonder and desire meet in tangos, bittersweet

It’s almost August; farewell, farewell, my darling chérie

My sweet July, we cannot keep at bay time’s surging sea

But, come what may, of August’s day, July's memories made

Are gathered in a coffer no hand of time can invade

© Janet Martin

Everlasting Masterpiece

My, how earth is filled with wonder

My, how birth delights our gaze...

Who waters the world with showers...

My, how You get our attention

Where the skies Your works proclaim...

June/the Creator of June throbs in hearts and earth 

with wealth of beauty and wonder!

June's jubilance always fades far too fast

but its Creator and His love are everlasting!

Isn't that our greatest joy of all?!

My, how You get our attention

Where the skies Your works proclaim

Where Beauty is the reflection

Of the love from whence we came

My, how earth is filled with wonder

My, how birth delights our gaze

Where burgeoning bud-vaults thunder

With an outpouring of praise

My, how often we forget You

While, though hemmed in by Your Hand

We begin to fret, and doubt You

For ways we can’t understand

Who can thread the loom of flowers?

Who instills the sower’s seed?

Who waters the world with showers?

Who, the morning has decreed?

Who can boast, but what is given?

Who can save man’s soul from hell?

Who of us can ascribe heaven?

Who the thoughts of You can tell?

You, the author of creation

And salvation's precious gift

You, faith's rock-solid Foundation

Who will not falter or shift 

  

My, how Your mercies surround us

Fount beneath and vault above

Hope within where you confound us

With an everlasting love

© Janet Martin

Jer.31:3

The LORD has appeared of old to me, saying: 

“Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; 

Therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

Psalm 139:5

You hem me in behind and before,

and you lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

too lofty for me to attain.

Thank God!

a few May morning creation-treasures...

Thank God for beauty of creation, nature’s free-for-all

Where no one can claim credit for His creatures great and small

Mankind beholds what earth unfolds; we cannot intervene

To haste a bud to bloom or baste the countryside in green

We owe the crowning glory of worship’s unbridled praise

To He who orchestrates and grants the number of man’s days

Thank God for beauty beyond reach of evil’s ruthless rod

The heavens timelessly declare the handiwork of God

To set before our gaze, buffets laden with trays designed

By clouds and colours man cannot muster or mastermind

Then praise God, who furnishes seed, bud and celestial fount

Before the day when we bow down to give sacred account

Thank God for seasons we can only skim the surface of

To marvel without merit at earth’s laden treasure trove

To be the sole recipients of joy as we behold

The wonders of creation that somehow never grow old

Unbridled beauty clothes this globe compelling awestruck gaze

To touch the hemline of His robe with reverence and praise

Thank God, that while the ages roll creation keeps its youth

Where time will always take its toll yet cannot alter truth

Or usurp the Creator; from the dawn of ‘let there be’

No one and nothing can deter divine authority

He cups creation in His Hands, commands sun, moon and stars

We smote our chests, cry ‘what is man’ and drink from Mercy’s scars/jars

Thank God that He charges no fee for wonderment’s surprise

But spreads showcases lavishly before our very eyes

Where nature remains innocent in spite of mortal guilt

A kind of picnic basket emptied on earth’s tartan quilt

Where we are all invited to partake of beauty’s fare

And give God all the glory for glory He chose to share

© Janet Martin

Psalm 104:33-34

Click link to read the whole glorious chapter!)

I will sing to the Lord all my life;

I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.

May my meditation be pleasing to him,

as I rejoice in the Lord.

May's Maestro

Perchance, doth art of May entrance

With undulating hues/views...

Perchance, doth art of May entrance

With undulating hues/views

Doth it stir hearts to sing and dance

As earth its garb renews

Doth Blossom’s dainty decoupage

Rouse hallelujah hymns

Played like an orchestral montage

From bud-bedazzled limbs

Doth May ignite awed happiness

As breathless gaze beholds

The evidence of God’s caress

Where emerald tress unfolds

Doth hope feel like it finds it wings

As verdant vibrato

Spills from earth’s trembling springs and strings

In vibrant crescendo

Doth its melody keen delight

As nature’s opus lauds

In symphonies hidden from sight

Until May’s Maestro nods

© Janet Martin

Song of Solomon 4:16
Awake, O north wind; 

and come, thou south; 

blow upon my garden, 

that the spices thereof may flow out. 

Let my beloved come into his garden,

 and eat his pleasant fruits.

Hooray for May or May Minuet

 For as the earth brings forth its bud...

In Ontario buds are on the brink of bursting into glorious hallelujah...

We watch, already breath-taken by the prelude!

Bright bolts of flower-fabric unfurl with flamboyant flare

Where emerald backdrops emanate from worlds, long bleak and bare

The woodland, draped in olive haze of lacy filigree

Beckons both feathered busker and bumbling humanity

Where mercy’s favor is renewed the farmer plants the field

He labours yet must learn to lean on He who grants the yield

Lord pray, first green will burst with gold and gold with harvest hymn

As earth becomes a fountain where bud and seedling-hope brim

Now garden dreams run rampant like a stream after spring-show’rs

Forgotten are the aches and pains of toil’s back-breaking hours

Where mosaics of morrow’s posies bloom in flawless form

And culinary conceptions take thought’s tastebuds by storm

Wild apple-orchards dapple hillsides in pastel chiffon

Like ballerinas poised to twirl as the music turns on

And we all become boys and girls, in heart if not in skin

As May melts chill winds with romance of sunbeam’s dance and grin

May’s Masterpiece Creator dazzles sweeps of sky and sod

Mankind, the awed spectator strolls art-galleries by God

The wonder-pangs that Beauty both kindles and satisfies

Since time began grants glimpses of a Perfect Paradise

Three cheers for May, a pansy-lilac-hyacinth-hooray

A sit-a-bit and take a quick half-aft-noon holiday

To drink the ink of poetry not snared on pages yet

To watch while earth becomes a stage for nature’s minuet

© Janet Martin

Isa.61:11

For as the earth brings forth its bud,
As the garden causes the things that are sown in it to spring forth,
So the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise 

to spring forth before all the nations.

Minuet Dance

(reminds me of sunbeams, breezes, butterflies and blossoms)

For Thee, Dear Earth's Creator

 PAD Challenge day 22: Write a nature poem.

For Thee, Dear Tree

For Thee, Dear Bud

For Thee, Dear Seed

For Thee, Dear Bird 

and Brook...

For Thee, Dear Lord...

For The Beauty of the Earth

For thee, dear tree that spreads thy root-webbed skein

Beneath our feet, to drink from darksome spring

While overhead thy leafy mezzanine

Spills shadow-rooms fit for beggar and king

For thee, dear bud, that cups a wondrous loom

Where none can witness nature’s steadfast law

Until thy broken seal reveals the bloom

And steals our breath, ten-thousand times, with awe

For thee, dear seed, of grand potential

A miracle within a speck-sized brood

Yet, from these origins so miniscule

A feast unfolds; earth’s table groans with food

For thee, dear bird and brook and butterfly

And buzzing bee in petal-portico

For hills and plains that roll out to the sky

In tides of green and gold and indigo

For Thee, dear Lord, that didst entrust earth’s heart

To be cared for and tended by mankind

I humbly vow to try to do my part

To labour well, with future-kin in mind

© Janet Martin

Isa.6:3

And they were calling to one another:

 "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory."

Psalm 24:1

The earth is the LORD'S, and the fulness thereof; 

the world, and they that dwell therein.