Tuesday Tids and Bits

 What loveliness the rain unfurls

When nature's dress is decked in pearls

***

 Contentment...

If you have

 Work you love

 A home you love 

 Someone to love 

 Be glad

And thank the

Gracious Lord above

For what many wish

They had

© Janet Martin

The above poem was inspired as we watched the garbage collectors at the end of our driveway this morning.
Matt remarked, 'I don't think I would love that job.'

***

 Worth Whiles

(this little fellow's smile puts worth in every while:)

Nobody knows,

Without a doubt

How long our life

On earth

Therefore, we ought

With humble clout

To fill its while

With worth

For it is very

Worth our while

While ‘whiles’ winnow

The air

To take stock of

Who, what we love

And how we show

We care

Futile, these miles

And smiles and whiles

To which each day

Gives birth

If nothing more

Than was before

 Has filled its while

With worth

© Janet Martin

 ***

There is a little lord

That lives somewhere inside

The more we try to please his ply

The less he’s satisfied

The more he gets he wants

How much his hunger craves

Of such-and-such beyond the touch

For which his body slaves

Then he is prone to hoard

His pile of pilfered pelf

…this lofty little lord

That goes by name of Self

© Janet Martin

1 Tim.6:6-11

 But godliness with contentment is great gain. 
For we brought nothing into this world, 

and it is certain we can carry nothing out.

 And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.

 But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, 

and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, 

which drown men in destruction and perdition.

 For the love of money is the root of all evil: 

which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, 

and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.

 But thou, O man of God, flee these things; 

and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness.

A Good Deal of Responsibility comes with A Good Deal

We all love 'a good deal'

But herein lies 'the pawn'

With the 'saved dollars' from our 'steal'

Who do we spend it on?

The test of who we serve

Is not our boast of tongue

But how we use the 'what we have'

And who we spend it on

Lord, make us more aware

Of the mercies we hold

And help us lay up treasure where

Wealth is not weighed in gold

© Janet Martin

A Thursday Thoughts style post on a Tuesday because 

Thursdays are generally long, busy-with-lots-of-tots days.

Rural Summer Mural

Halo of mist on a morn half-awake

Lowing of cattle-beast wafts on the air

Gentle, so gentle, is rural daybreak

Echo of Eden and God walking there

Raindrops on roses, far hills, baby-blue

Heaven lends earth little glimpses, oh my

Meadow-sweeps dazzle with diamonds of dew

Beauty unstoppers a flask held sky-high

Hearty and humble, each task close at hand

Laundry-lines laden with cotton ballet

Coffers of sun-gold spill over the land

Rousing aroma of alfalfa-hay

Happy hens clucking a laid-an-egg boast

Red rooster fluffing his look-at-me strut

Fresh coffee fragrance, berry jam on toast

Life leaves so little to rankle with ‘but’

Somewhere a violinist, soft and slow

Across an ocean of barley and wheat

Touches its tawny timbre with a bow

Stirring a ballad of dust, sultry-sweet

Pink portulaca in pots on a porch

Lazy dog lolls on the cool of the floor

Screen door slaps languidly, noon lights a torch

Garden-gifts gathered for lunch and much more

Purple coneflowers play a petal hymn

Maple-tree awning spawns sit-a-spell shade

Buzz of cicada tunes afternoon’s limb

Simple siesta of cold lemonade

Twilight delivers rose-gold lullaby

Highlighting shivers of leaf on the air

Gentle, so gentle, rural eventide

Echo of Eden and God walking there

© Janet Martin

When Summer Comes...

When summer comes a-wooing from fathoms of blue and green

With every other color on earth’s palette tossed between

We stroll a little lighter through its ‘bare feet welcome’ rooms

And sing a little brighter midst its serenade of blooms

When summer comes a-gleaming from a fount of petal-snow

Then, dreamers trade in dreaming to taste moments here and now

We wish a little wiser in its wander-wonder-world

We fish a little river in the cast of dusk unfurled

When summer comes a-traipsing from a place beyond our gaze

Where sunshine’s yellow cello music sets the sea ablaze

We laugh a little blither; learn a language none can teach

Where far too long we yearned for songs that shimmer on the beach

When summer comes a-smiling like fair maidens in first love

With wind-whispers beguiling more than birds to shadowed grove

We take a little picnic packed in winter’s fantasy

And make a pretty picture for next winter’s memory

When summer comes a-scattering lupine and columbine

Her pockets tattered with the weight of honey-suckle vine

We work a little gladder where the season’s hour lends

A sweet and swift undoing like a bud whose flower ends

When summer comes cajoling like waves rolling to a shore

Whereon the best of love and life engraves its phantom roar

We loll a little longer ‘neath the green tree in its prime

And grow a little stronger in the good old summertime

© Janet Martin

Ever Ebbing As It Flows...

And he shewed me a pure river of water of life,

clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.

In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

Rev.22:1-2 

Time’s tide is ever ebbing as it flows toward a shore

That holds the tree of life where crystal, living waters pour

The healing of earth’s nations waits, not in some earthly tome

But in the swinging wide of Heaven’s gates and ‘welcome home’

Be not dismayed when prophecies unfold age-old decree

Before the Lord of lords returns these things must come to be

Take comfort then, dear fellow-friend, in what we know for sure

In spite of fear’s foreshadowing, God’s promises endure

The best is yet to come but only for those who believe

Who repent of their sin and therein redemption receive

Then, though often we tremble at the thought of the Unknown

We turn our eyes to Living Hope proceeding from God’s throne

Ah, agony of sorrow as we mourn man’s unbelief

God is not mocked; Alpha, Omega, Rock of Ages, Chief

This day of grace He grants and plants in every breath exhaled

Is ever ebbing as it flows toward His face unveiled

© Janet Martin

No Matter Where We Look...

It trembles in green leaf aloft

In petals, perfume-skinned

It wafts in salutations soft

As whispers on the wind

It spills across the still of dusk

From skeins of silken gold

It spurs the seed that stirs the dust

With harvest’s hidden hold

In pearl of dew and furl of dark

On heavens endless sweep

Its morning does not miss its mark

Nor find its Bard asleep

It spirals in a star of snow

And chuckles in a brook

It trembles where bloom-banners blow

Or nod in wooded nook

It draws the eye to where it rolls

In oceanic wave

With solemn sanction it cajoles

The lilies on a grave

With flourish of a phantom pen

It fills the furrowed field

It nourishes the roar of men

With mercy-mentored yield

No matter where we look we see

On sky or sea or sod

Its kind familiarity

...the signature of God

© Janet Martin

 He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.

Job 9:8