Because It Is July...

Because it is July we lie beneath the brimming tree

And tend to linger longer in a flower’s company

Our attitude of gratitude comes naturally these days

Of making memories to fill next winter’s fireside gaze

Because it is July we try to make its moments count

A daily celebration of creation’s fulsome fount

As orchestral arrangements spill where time and touch compete

In lilt of lark, sea-song on sand, shimmers of golden wheat

Because it is July the eye is filled with pleasantries

A myriad of miracles undoes the bud with ease

And fills the mouth with hymns of ooh and awe’s simplicity

To He who needs no teacher to perfect His ‘let there be’

Because it is July the sky is full of friendly blue

Above love’s tug-of-war twixt what we want and need to do

The garden is a dreamland for its barefoot girls and boys

A wholesome haven in a world so full of rush and noise

Because it is July, Time’s my-oh-my keens every sense

And we should take the time to find a flower-laden fence

Or fish beside a sleepy stream or listen to the sigh

Of all that slips from dream to dream…because it is July

© Janet Martin

A Good Day For Leaf-gazing

It's one of those days...good for leaf-gazing💦

This post also includes a poem by James Whitcomb Riley I often think of on a hot day...

(...or bees)

...where we all wish for a big fig leaf to cool us from the sun

Or a breeze to tease our sweat-drops please, until our work is done

Or a pool 'o cool an' some lemonade an' a leaf-song serenade

An’ a bench o’ grass where we stretch to pass an hour in the shade

© Janet Martin

At Ninety in the Shade

by James Whitcomb Riley

Hot weather? Yes; but really not,

Compared with weather twice as hot.

Find comfort, then, in arguing thus,

And you'll pull through victorious!—

For instance, while you gasp and pant

And try to cool yourself—and can't—

With soda, cream and lemonade,

The heat at ninety in the shade,—

Just calmly sit and ponder o'er

These same degrees, with ninety more

On top of them, and so concede

The weather now is cool indeed!

Think—as the perspiration dews

Your fevered brow, and seems to ooze

From out the ends of every hair—

Whole floods of it, with floods to spare—

Think, I repeat, the while the sweat

Pours down your spine—how hotter yet

Just ninety more degrees would be,

And bear this ninety patiently!

Think—as you mop your brow and hair,

With sticky feelings everywhere—

How ninety more degrees increase

Of heat like this would start the grease;

Or, think, as you exhausted stand,

A wilted “palm-leaf” in each hand—

When the thermometer has done

With ease the lap of ninety-one;

O think, I say, what heat might do

At one hundred and eighty-two—

Just twice the heat you now declare,

Complainingly, is hard to bear.

Or, as you watch the mercury

Mount, still elate, one more degree,

And doff your collar and cravat,

And rig a sponge up in your hat,

And ask Tom, Harry, Dick or Jim

If this is hot enough for him—

Consider how the sun would pour

At one hundred and eighty-four—

Just twice the heat that seems to be

Affecting you unpleasantly,

The very hour that you might find

As cool as dew, were you inclined.

But why proceed when none will heed

Advice apportioned to the need?

Hot weather? Yes; but really not,

Compared with weather twice as hot!

Only Once

 A flower blooms only once...

Only once

We live and die

No rerun

For you or I

Today is

Its first and last

Present-This

Tomorrow’s Past

Only once

Let’s take its ‘how’

And make the most

Of here and now

© Janet Martin

 …Otherwise, He would have had to suffer repeatedly since the foundation of the world. But now He has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of Himself. Just as man is appointed to die once, and after that to face judgment, so also Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many; and He will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who eagerly await Him.…

Heb.9:26-28

Shades of Green and In Between...

The distant sheen that layers shades of green on misted green

Or hazy hues of baby blues with deeper hues between

Fringes the frames where good and ill will thrill and aggravate

And no one tames the flower-brush that frills hills, fence and gate

Time’s sentimental serenade persuades us to ‘enjoy’

To pause and play in pools of shade with little girl or boy

Before we gaze, amazed too late at what we missed somehow

Where season-songs surge and abate while we push-push the plow

The finery of wake and sleep and leap and fly and fall

Finagles from the leafy tree a tender madrigal

It teaches us to sing along beneath the albatross

Of learning to let go where every gain is hinged to loss

…and barefoot dancers don’t need answers on a sunny day

Yet ignoring the obvious won’t make it go away

Where all the colors of the world unfurl their pearl and flare

If only to become a swirl of silver on the air

Ah, who can bear to dwell too long on what is gone; oh no

The distant sheen that layers shades of green will turn to snow

Where oh, this moment-mist is far more than Time's tinted nod

It is the highway we all take to travel back to God

© Janet Martin

Time...
Eccles.3

People have been writing and singing about Time for a long, long Time.... 

(here are just a few;-)

... treasure its moment-measure!

On Finding The Tender Balance...

 Has your Duty-side started the Tug-of-war with your Dreamer-side yet?!

 I find Summer sparks its duel constantly!

Early morning child-care bonus??? I get to see the sun come up,

( sometimes a morning poem needs to be finished in the afternoon because that's when babies sleep!)

Skyline resurrects the backdrop

That at twilight slipped away

From the velvet vault of tick-tock

Thus begins a new Today

Want and worship wakes our hunger

Feet touch down on trampled sod

Where dawn’s welcome mat is anchored

In the faithfulness of God

Don’t give up; each cup of morning

God fills with *coffee mercy once more

Though Pink Daybreak leaves its mooring

Dusk soon draws it back to shore

Laden with Past’s precious splashes

Prone to spark a storm within

Who could guess the surf that crashes

Beneath this frail veil of skin

Fancy fills the dreamer’s pockets

Duty rules the doer’s list

Summer softly solders lockets

Filled with echo-laden mist

Pray we find the tender balance

Bit ‘o duty, bit ‘o dream

Where dawn’s quiver full of moments

Fades like ripples on a stream

© Janet Martin

* coffee lovers, click on this link to hear some happy 'news'!