Bethlehem's Star (A Repost)

Bethlehem’s star has not dimmed its glow

It beams clearly now as it did long ago

Into the darkness of earth’s desperate night

Bethlehem’s star still offers His light

Still now we gather in awe of His might

To wonder and worship and seek this true Light

Over each cradle and grave see it shine

Mercy and goodness and love so divine

‘Peace on the earth and goodwill to all men’

A message of hope as true now as then

Come one and all, oh, come as you are

Follow the Light of Bethlehem’s star

Janet~

“Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Matt. 2:1

Poet's Soliloquy (my Writer's Group Homework Assignment)

Use these words in a story, poem or song.

Soliloquy, Hypoteneuse, Frostbite, Zugzwang,
Solecism, Jeopardy, Astronomer, Jigamirandee,
Ottoman, Gordon Lightfoot, Spot remover, Tattle tale,
Acalculia, Pseudonym, Squeegee, Chimera

I'm in a Writer's Group that meets on the first Friday of every month. (if you live near Drayton and you are a writer or wanna-be, hop on by. We have so much fun:) I missed the last meeting so you can imagine my surprise at the words in our homework assignment…(they were chosen out of a game they played)

I did mine last night, lying on the floor in front of a crackling fire just before I fell asleep. It is written accordingly…

Poet’s Soliloquy:

A pseudonym would simply cause my other self to blush,

I’ll bear this poet’s shame using my own name

Because…

Since my severe frostbite last December

Acalculia has made it hard for me to remember

So many basic facts; recovery’s hypotenuse, I guess

But it has put in jeopardy my career as poetess

So please, forgive my frequent solecism

I’m not in the mood for professional criticism

Besides, each time I pick up a pen; impossible zugzwang

I can’t seem to come up with a ‘thang’

That aint been writ; I want to quit. And what’s more

I just spilled coffee on my white skirt and the floor

I’m using spot-remover but a tattletale stain

Compels me to squeegee it again and again

While Gordon Lightfoot sings, In the Early morning Rain…

Let’s face it, I’m scrubbing in vain.

Muse is a chimera, my writing is crap

I pull up the ottoman; it’s time for a nap

My son’s invention is a real dandy

It’s a help-u-to-sleep jigamirandee

So I pour myself one, with a double shot of brandy

O-o-o-! The astronomers will be happy tonight

Cause I see stars falling and I’m not even outside! 

Janet :)

Of Causes and Effects...

Cause and effect

Its sure results

Don’t happen overnight

But action yields

From patient fields

The fruit of wrong or right

My dearest child,

If you are wise

Then bear this truth in mind

Cause and effect

Have no respect

In harvest cruel or kind

The seeds we plant

May seem so small

But tiny seeds will grow

And what was hid

Will someday be

The fruit we have to show

Cause and effect

We cannot sway

The course of nature’s laws

Employ with care

For deeds effect

Is chosen by the cause

© Janet Martin

 My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives,
or a grapevine bear figs?
Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.

James 3:12

A 'Mary Christmas'

 

It happens every year

In spite of my intent

That to-do list with iron fist

Insists that I consent

And if I pay no heed

Then I fear that I might

Forget the Worth that came to earth

On that first Christmas night

Why do I rush about

Letting panic increase?

Jesus was born on Christmas morn

To give us hope and peace

And should I never pause

To sit at Jesus knee

Then I have missed His greatest gift

In care’s futility

Will we kneel at His feet

Or fret in flurried fuss?

Will it be a Mary or Martha Christmas?

The choice is up to us

© Janet Martin

At the Home of Martha and Mary: Luke 10:38-42

 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him.  She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.  But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things,  but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

The Child in Us...

A little child in each of us remains

For who does not return to its delight

As childish voices, fair and fluent ring

With Dashing Through the Snow and Silent Night

Oh God, let us not grow too old or cold

As to forget the passion of our youth

Beneath the thrill as childish voice extols

The story of Love’s timeless precious truth

And in the hour of winter’s gentle snow

As earth becomes a postcard with no frame

May ever in our hearts the spirit glow

Of childhood, where we knew not guilt or shame

As joyful tidings spill in Christmas song

Of peace on earth, goodwill to everyone

May it be more than notes to heaven flung

And may the child in us live on and on

© Janet Martin

Children's Choir;  Christmas Isn't Christmas Until...

Midnight... A Sonnet

Into the argent aftermath of Time

The fringes of this little day dissolve

And still the moments muster brave resolve

Dauntless they tumble from mute midnight’s clime

Where diamond daisies strew its meadowland

In regions boundless and unfathomed; vast

There is no future nor present and past

No seasons shifting this galactic strand

But here the moment-flow of hours rush

Illusive surge; weightless consuming force

Skimming earth’s canvas with a subtle brush

Youth slows beneath its ethereal discourse

Of fine-spun gossamer and evening blush

We are the Riders on a restless horse

The spinning-wheel of moments will not still

The Master-weaver is in full command

While baby drifts through fantasy’s dreamland
 And midnight blots from view the distant hill

The hour does not pause when it is full

Each year bleeds seamlessly into the next

Toward the unveiling of its pretext

Beneath this vapid seed and harvest hull

Where the postlude of mortal moment flows

Relentless in its joy and sorrow surge

Whispered in breezes where the bracken blows

And willows weep an everlasting dirge

The spinning-wheel of moments never slows

Until past-present-future will converge

But onward now toward our dreams we ride

Life’s vim is not restrained by reigns of Time

And happiness is not a thing sublime

Withheld until we reach the other Side

Against Time’s restless horse we kick our heels

Midnight echoes the pounding of its feet

The dust settles in memories bittersweet

We close our eyes and view its phantoms reels

And now the midnight rouses keen resolve

To cherish carefully our measured lot

Smooth, the consumption of its breaths dissolve

And soon today is but an afterthought

Where legacies of our loves evolve

The Rider and the Horse will soon be caught

© Janet Martin

Gentle Arms

They reach through the chill-autumn dusk

Warm arms drawing me in

To love where home-fires grin

Bulwark in life’s billow brusque

Beacon of gentle glow

Spills to the atmosphere

Urging its loved ones near

Orange circles on the snow

With eager hearts we perceive

The welcome in its smile

Knowing we can rest awhile

Out of the chill-autumn eve

They reach from familiar berth

And eagerly we come

To those beautiful lights of Home

And our little heavens-on-earth

Someday the lights of Home

Will lift us from this dirt

Away from life’s temporal hurt

As we cry, ‘Lord, I come’

© Janet Martin

I was struck by their welcome as I came home last night...
The picture is from my archives again; my camera isn't working;(

Of Conclusions...

 

To be with you      oh darling

Through every day of love

I know without looking

Could never, ever be

Enough because

It’s the way

It is with

Love

OX

V