Between the Plume of Dogwood Bloom

Recently someone waited in our driveway for help to change a flat tire...she admired the view of rolling countryside. Me too! I never tire of it and am 'wowed' constantly by God's handiwork in every season.

Between the plume of dogwood bloom

And autumn’s laden bower

We linger in the candid grin

Of summer’s precious hour

Betwixt the scrim of blushing limb

In springtime’s glad awaking

And orchard bent; heaven has sent

Summer, free for its taking

She does not charge the world at large

For sun-beam dappled grasses

Nor asks a price for blue-sky slice

Or wind-song as it passes

Freely she flings her offerings

Of roses, sunset, showers

Where green and gold on hills unfold

To roadsides filled with flowers

Her melody is fair and free

How soft those sweet caresses

Between the plume of dogwood bloom

And autumn’s flaming tresses

© Janet Martin

Sweet, sweet July
Oh, tell me why
You slip so swiftly
To the sky...

Lovely Love

Love is not a recreational pastime

It stands, faithfully through life’s thick and its thin

Love is a mercy much deeper than laughter

Or beauty that grazes our bindings of skin

Love is relinquishment of self-desire

Bending of knee and re-bowing of will

Love is the traveler of second-mile journeys

Honing our meekness with its keening drill

Love plants its blossoms in suffering’s dark windows

It does not covet lime-light or applause

Knowing that God is its ultimate witness

Love does not grumble or kick at life’s flaws

Love is a splendor of infinite wonder

It does not seek adulation or boast

Yet in the end it is Love; Gift and Giver

That never ceases to astonish us most

© Janet Martin

For my neighbor Laurene who simply spreads love wherever she goes. God bless you, Laurene.

These Seemingly Nothings

It is good, these seemingly nothings

Talking of weather or what yet might be

Chatting of recipes, gardens and children

Painting a picture in thought’s memory

It is precious, life seemingly nothings

Oh what a blessing, beneath summer’s tree

To linger a moment where the sun in shining

And talk of these ‘nothings’ while stirring our tea

God bless the hours of ‘seemingly nothings’

These are the neutrals in life’s tapestry

Camouflaged colors we take for-granted

Until greater sorrows jolt their memory

It is love, these seemingly nothings

…Time’s gentle stitches binding joy and strife

‘Seemingly nothings’ of chuckle and chatter

Helping us bear bigger burdens of life

Treasure the measure of ‘seemingly nothings’

…modest imbuement of mercy’s caress

Nibble of muffin and vase of wild daisies

‘Seemingly nothings’ of God’s tenderness

© Janet Martin

It feels so good to feel good! Victoria and I spent 24 hrs sharing blankets and

 pepto-bismal. Today a neighbor popped by within minutes after she heard we were a little ‘under the weather’ She brought muffins, a cheery smile and we chatted for a while. I realized that I am way too guilty of taking one of life’s greatest blessings too for granted! There really are no ‘nothings’ in life…and I told my neighbor that I thought of her mother, an invalid, when I was sick. My heart goes out to those who suffer every day!  

Of July's Fading Fringes

Hold me, I beg in your kind, azure gaze

Dance to a warm willow-vesper

Nurture my mind with abandonment’s blaze

Sweeten my mouth with your whisper

Cradle me where we will seal our last kiss

Gather me in farewell’s hunger

Torture me tenderly in parting’s bliss

Tarry until I am younger

You know that I will not shackle the gate

I know that you must be leaving

Passion and sorrow; love’s juxtaposed weight

Mingle in bittersweet grieving

I beg you to hold me, sweet, sanguine July

But moments do not pause or linger

Caught in a vortex of wide-open sky

You vanish on my outstretched fingers…

© Janet Martin

There’s a key change in the winds that play

Falling from lilt to sigh

Dripping from tendrils of mid-day

In preeminence of good-bye

Tomorrow it may croon and swell

Over summer’s high-noon

Today it lingers in farewell

Of July; leaving way too soon

Long we a-wait its broad, blue-sky candor

Mid-summer’s easy kin-ship

Somewhere within Time’s wild-flower splendor

Over bronze fringes it slips

There is a key change in the late afternoon

It trickles from lintels of musk

Pooling in mouths of day-lily blooms

Disappearing into the dusk…

Solemn, the orchestra of cricket-cheeping

Ushers her over a floor

Of stubble and clover; while we are sleeping

July will be no more…

© Janet Martin

Sharing a few from a year ago...just getting over a bout of flu;(

Gift of Grace

Between the paths that lie behind

And every path untrodden

Exists the present; here we find

A thing sacred, important

The path behind can’t be retraced

The future is thought-vision

The present is a gift of grace

Worthy of our ambition

We cannot travel yesterday

Or tread tomorrow’s nothing

The worth of life is in Today

A gracious gift of loving

Between the paths of ‘Hope’ and ‘Had’

We bear an exhortation

The present pleads on our behalf

With purposed expectation

And soon the moments it has wrought

Will be life-lesson’s story

Embrace this mercy-gift from God

And use it to His glory

© Janet Martin

Sabbath Song

 "Six days you shall labor, but on the seventh day you shall rest; even during the plowing season and harvest you must rest. Ex. 34:21

…and now upon this little earth

The Lord bestowed for mankind’s best

A day of Sabbath from his work

A day of worship, respite, rest

In spirit and in truth, oh God

Accept our offering of praise

’Tis humble thanks; we know You know

The intent of our fumbling ways

…and yet you love us; right and wrong

In spite of our fears and faults

You yearn to hear our grateful song

As tongue Your majesty exalts

And when the morrow fills the lea

Upon Time’s troubled avenue

May our labor ever be

A worship-offering back to You

© Janet Martin

Of Ranklings and Rendezvous

Tonight the night won’t yield to me

The outline of fence-post or tree

Tonight the dark is dark as ink

And all that I can do is think…

The rendezvous of page and pen

Can torment even stronger men

I reach but cannot touch the brink

To spell these wordless thoughts I think

The rankling of the mind and heart

Are ever near, yet far apart

Can Prudence coalesce with She

Who dares to dream in poetry?

Silence seduces sorrow’s sigh?

Tonight the earth is full of sky

Longing could fill its void of naught

But for your whisper in my thought

You are here and I am there

Together in the dark night air

Nay, I am here; are you with She

Who rends the night with poetry?

© Janet Martin

Like Never Before...

So much the same yet like never before

Light rends night’s shadows to brighten our door

Gleaming on meadows of dew-laden lock

Kissing the sun-flow’r and prim holly-hock

Tender assurances spill from yon main

Compassion’s faithfulness, new once again

Hope for life’s journey spills from onyx hull

Yet, only believers can taste it in full

Soft glide life’s moments, from heaven they pour

So much the same yet like never before

Up from the edge of the earth, see His love

Bathing the morning with Light from above

Lord, fill our wishes with love’s simple song

Guide our footsteps and make courage strong

Let our returning of humble thanks pour

So much the same yet like never before

© Janet Martin

 Let my mouth be filled with thy praise and with thy honour all the day. Ps. 71:8