Saturday, August 8, 2015

August Gold-rush






Cold is the gold in coffers
Of miser, merchant-throng
But gold that nature offers
Fills pauper-bards with song

The gold of sun-flow’r beaming
Of black-eyed Susan’s hair
Of wheat-field oceans gleaming
With farmer’s answered prayer

Of sun-sparkle on water
Of morning waking up 
Of summer’s yellow laughter
Caught in a butter-cup

The gold of early autumn
Soft teases walnut-tress
And scatters to the garden
Gold tatters from her dress

The orchard tree is lowered
Gold-bent with fruit of bloom
Where pear and apple-lovers
Wander from room to room

The glint of noon through arbors
Of maple-canopy
The hint of Soon September
The moon on midnight’s sea

The doorway to dusk meadow
The dust of August heat
Dripping with peach-sweet nectar
And dash of sun-kissed feet

The vault that spills with treasure
Of sky and sea and sod
No human hand can garner
For these belong to God

…ah, cold is the gold in coffers
Of miser, merchant, king
But gold that nature offers
Makes bards and paupers sing

© Janet Martin

Far From Commonplace...a morning meditation





View not this day as mundane commonplace
This Prize of Time’s demise bathes hill and plain
Look and behold the drippings of God’s grace
Refurbishing the dark with Light again
Upon this mount of moments we survey
The residue of Past, but we are Here
And holders of a priceless charge: Today
Oh, view it not as some plebeian sphere
But drink its cup and break its bread and eat
Then stoop and wash a fellow-traveler's feet

We may not ever meet again like this
Thus we ought never to make light of It
Dawn blushes beneath heaven’s holy kiss
Skies overflow with Present’s Little Bit
The table in earth’s house is spread and groans
With daily bread of opportunity
Will we be silent and sanction the stones
To raise up praise while we gorge foolishly?
Take, eat, this is the day the Lord has made
Forbid we plunder Mercy’s table laid

Arise, for lo, the Hour is at Hand
Time does not tarry long; Heaven and Hell
Wait just beyond this fragile frond of sand
And none return its joy or grief to tell
The truths of old will never shift or change
What God has promised He will surely do
Then come, lest Ignorance dares to estrange
Us from the hope He offers me and you
As He stoops from his throne to wash our feet
With a New day, ah, hear Him say, 'come, eat'  

...for the birth of this new Today began
Far from the commonplace precepts of man

© Janet Martin

Friday, August 7, 2015

Life's Salad Bowl



When you’ve got fixin’s for a salad
Life is fine
Bitty kiss and cuddle, darlin’
Little sip o’ wine
Splash o’ laughter, dash o’ tear
Hint o’ things to come, my dear
Tug o‘ heart and cup o’ cheer
Begs the soul to dine

When you got fixin’s for a salad
Life is grand
Bitty heartache, hope and hunger
Sifting through love’s hand
Pinch o’ prudence, second chance
A whole heart full o’ romance
Invites life’s taste buds to dance
All across the land

When you got fixin’s for a salad
Life is good
This and that and thus, my darling
Makes soul-food
Smidge o’ sunshine on the face
Slice o’ somethin’ nice to taste
Overflow the bowl with grace
M-m-m-m, m-m-m-m, good

© Janet Martin

Life is a little like salad, isn't it?
a lot of this and that mixed together to create something surprisingly nice!

Imagine if the phone never rang, if no one ever needed your help, if nobody came and went in your home leaving behind a trace of their presence...
I pinched off a big HUFF as I looked into my son's bedroom. Definitely someone living there!!
...then I looked into Melissa's room where everything stays exactly the same unless she drops in for a visit.
I think I prefer the clothes-salad in Matt's room;-) 

Speaking of salad(my very favorite food in the world, in case I've never mentioned it)
I 'invented' one the other day that was so delish...I want you to enjoy it too!
With gardens spilling over with fresh produce its fun to experiment.



Janet's Summer Salad
Break up lettuce, any variety will do.
I used ice-berg and butter-crunch(a home-grown variety)
Slice some cabbage on top(amount depends on how large you want the serving)
Add sliced onion rings(I like red onion but any will do)
diced cucumber,
green pepper(or red) chopped
a diced tomato(optional)
some broccoli flowerets
black beans
shredded mozzerella cheese
and sprinkle with toasted sunflower and flax seeds 
I added chicken but it is also great without
 (you can pick and choose which items to use or omit as well)

Dressing
(large batch; leftovers can be stored in refrigerator)
place in blender;
3/4 cup wh. sugar(less is you prefer less sweet)
1/2 cup vinegar
1/8 to 1/4 cup soy sauce(I prefer it less salty)
healthy pinch of black pepper
blend then slowly add;
3/4 cup olive oil (or 1/2 olive and 1/2 canola)
blend again
then drizzle lightly on salad



A One Time Thing!





"Never mind that everyone else was gold and bronze. 
She was born pink so her very best pink she was going to be!"

We should bloom where we’re planted
And to our Maker be true
Because, my love, He'll never make
Another me or you

We might stick out like a sore thumb
Or an odd-ball, ‘tis true
But. my dear, there will never be,
Another me or you

So we should stand up brave and tall
Do all that we can do
To be the very best of all
One, only me and you

© Janet Martin

...it seems somehow a zinnia seed mixed in with marigolds.
Did she decide to become a marigold after being surrounded by them; nearly drowned out by them?!
Nope! Tall and pink and bold she stands.

Praise God From Whom Hope Flows





Praise God from Whom all blessing flows
He breaks the bud that holds the rose
He tends the fallow where the grain
Is nurtured by His sun and rain

Praise God from Whom Time’s blessing pours
He cups its sea twixt eon’s shores
And curls the vine bent low with fruit
Where Nature obeys His statute

Praise God from Whom earth’s tray is spread
With little loaves of daily bread
Where man depends upon His grace
And no one else can take His place

Praise God from Whom the dawn is lent
Of summer, winter, fall and spring
Let all the mouths of mortal sing

Praise God in Whom man puts His trust 
He places merit in his dust
Praise God Who, when this life grows dim
Has purchased a Way back to Him

© Janet Martin