...and the Housewife Dances and Sings

At first glance

The moments at hand appear

filled with the

seemingly mundane

of laundry heaps and dirty dishes

Of rooms to tidy

Again

and again…

But the moments at hand

Are not what they appear

at first glance

They speak of

hands to hold,

bodies to embrace
and memories to fold

The seemingly mundane

puts a smile on my face

…because it speaks of love

And God’s bountiful grace

...so I dance and I sing

To clean up love's crumbs is a beautiful thing

Thank-you God.

© Janet Martin

Okay, I have to confess; the crumbs and clutter caught me sighing a little until Someone convicted me to scrutinized them more closely…oh. Yes. They are beautiful love-crumbs!

Through my Window I See the World

Miles are but dirt-fraught inches on earth’s cusp

Our neighborhood in not restrained by such

With one click of a key a door unlocks

And instantaneously our smiles touch…

Technology has closed the sprawling gap

Of distance; you are one mouse-click away

And far across the world I hear you clap

We share the joy that smiles on us today

Or then perhaps, I feel you shed a tear

And we unite; across mountains and seas

Our close-knit neighborhood spanning earth’s sphere

Shares life's love; its hope and agonies

Miles are but dust-shaped inches on the land

There are no gates or walls in cyber-space

With one click of the key I hold your hand

You reach across the air in love’s embrace

© Janet Martin

This morning I was ‘touched’ with loving words from so many friends in our neighborhood. India, Nova Scotia, Sejer Island, just to name a few…Hi Andrea .

We Gather...We Let Go (two-for-two-Tues.)

Poetics Aside Two-for-two Tuesdays:

1. Write a gathering poem.
2. Write a letting go poem.

We Gather…

They filter through our being

We gather in their wake

Our portion of their rendering

Fond memories to make

Ephemeral allotment

Yet surging through our grasp

We gather in their aftermath

Fond memories to clasp

Invisible out-pouring

Above, around, beneath

We gather from life’s moment-spring

Fond memories to keep

© Janet Martin

We Let Go

The tree must relinquish its grandeur

The bloom must surrender its mirth

The ravishing splendor of nature

Soon returns back to the earth

The child must let go of its mother

The mother must release her ‘dears’

For love is a double-edge wonder

Of beautiful laughter and tears

…for just as the wake of moments

Renders love’s gifts in its flow

Its surge is a tender-sweet torment

Of holding and letting go

© Janet Martin

 

Not My Will...

(I really do not like to look at images like this but sometimes it is good to realize the raw horror of what He suffered because of His love for you and I)

Jesus, if You, in humble anguish could forgiveness repeat

As nails where pounded violently

Through Your Hands and Feet

Jesus, if You, God’s guiltless perfect Son

Could cry without a selfish thought

‘Not My will, but Thine be done’

…then Jesus, surely as we approach

And bow before Thee on Thy throne

Ah, surely we can trust Thee as we plead

‘Not my will, but Thine be done

© Janet Martin

Love Came

Love came to earth, a babe in the manger

Heaven’s perfection put on flesh and blood

In lowly birth and to His own a stranger

Love came to serve us; the Son of God

Love came to free us; despised and rejected

Forsaken by all in death’s hour of grief

His name is Jesus; Love came to save us

And offer salvation for our unbelief

Love spared no comfort; in blood-bought atonement

Perfect love came to become sin for us

Love never fails; prophecy’s fulfillment

Was laid in a manger and nailed to the cross

Love came to earth; and we hid our faces

Yet His perfect love over-came sin’s dark curse

By His stripes we are healed; as His love erases

The debt of our guilt; Love’s name is Jesus

© Janet Martin

Isa. 53

In Arms of Grace

On bended knee we beg and plead

We do not understand

But God, we know the ebb and flow

Of Time is in Your hand

You see the whole; You are in control

We see but one small jot

From tear-stained dust we lift our trust

You know what we do not

Though evil spills heart-wrenching ills 

In vile and loathsome form

We cling to You; love firm and true

The Keeper of the storm

This is the hour of holy power

This is the hour of hope

Our plea out-poured; you hear us Lord

And You will help us cope

From sea to sea God's family

Unites in Christian love

And here we place in arms of grace

Our trust His might to prove

 Janet Martin

Join us in praying for Lia and her family.

No Game of Happenstance

 Poetics Aside Prompt; Wheel Poem

If life was just a game of chance

A spinning of the wheel

And fortune was a lucky glance

That misfortune could steal

If living was a gamble

Or a hapless fling of luck

And all that we could hope for

Was the glory of a buck

If hope was a drop of the ball

In terminal roulette

And destiny a lucky roll

Of numbers and a bet

If life, though a harsh duel

Were simply fate’s cold twist

Then living would be cruel

And hope could not exist

But our life is not some fluke event

Of pawns on a game-board of sod

Our being is no accident

It is a gift from God

© Janet Martin

 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Ps. 139:15

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, Jer. 1:5

Air-brushed Perfection

Poetics Aside Prompt: Write a 'wheel poem'

We cannot turn backward the wheel of time

To return to some coveted past

We cannot reverse its rhythm and rhyme

Of moments being cast

But if, peradventure by phantom power

Someone discovered that we could

Go back to starting life all over

…I don’t think that we would

Because even if we turned back time

And the present would disappear

A hill would still be a hill to climb

And a tear would remain a tear

The ‘known’ would become unknown's story

Progress and tradition would spar

Yes, the ‘good old days’ we have air-brushed to glory

Are perfect just where they are

© Janet Martin