October's Orchestra

Autumn ardor kindles

The color that dwindles

Where Ownership swindles

The song from the stem

Matrix of pure Beauty

Graces nature’s Duty

Musky-spicy- fruity

Brooding diadem

Scarlet-copper-yellow

Maraca and cello

Mingle, raw and mellow

In awe’s symphony

Silk-soft and frost-brittle

Piccolo and fiddle

Tug, twirl, tease and twiddle

Shaped notes from the tree

Power of persuasion

Trumps determination

Where all of creation

Is subject to He

Who conducts the choir

Of shallow and spire

A majestic gyre

Of sky, sod and sea

He strums firth with shower

Thrums bud into flower

Earth’s drum wakes the bower

And leaf-pianist

Four-season precision

The bough is a vision

Of birth to fruition  

To postlude of mist

© Janet Martin

God Is Love

 As I stood there a month ago I needed to recite the second stanza in this hymn;

The Love of God

Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of parchment made
Were every stalk on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade

To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky...

 

Sands of time cannot revise it

Though the storm of trouble tries it

Though the doubt of man defies it

Living Hope prevails

Flawed perception may mistake it

…think the Giver might forsake it

But nothing, no one can shake it

God’s love never fails

Life, each one of us must face it

Choose to dread it or embrace it

Love of God, what can replace it

Or secure man’s trust?

Birth begets what death will sever

Bodies decay; the soul, never

Who can dare to risk Forever

For a bit of dust?

Boast and bluff will never beat Him

No other gods can defeat Him

Someday everyone will meet Him

Living Hope unveiled

Then all eyes and graves will open

Everyone will see and know Him

Alpha, Omega, Elohim

Love that never failed

Love that planted Eden’s garden

Love that granted sinner’s pardon

Love that knew that man would harden

Hearts, yet Love would win

Love, kind Healer of the broken

Love, fulfiller of the Spoken

Love, The Father’s Flawless token

For man, flawed by sin

Boundless Love, nothing exceeds it

Saviour’s Love, everyone needs it

Perfect Love, the wise man heeds it

Fools deny its Name

Love, the Comforter for sorrow

Love, the Hero in life’s war, oh

Yesterday, today, tomorrow

He abides, the same

© Janet Martin

 Love Comes from God

 Beloved, let us love one another, because love comes from God. 

Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.

 Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.  

This is how God’s love was revealed among us: God sent His one and only Son into the world, 

so that we might live through Him.…

1 John 4:7-9

I Could Lick Her Floors!

Last Saturday night we celebrated my brother-in-law's 50th birthday by going out for dinner.
For dessert we were invited to his brother's house for cake and ice-cream.
Whenever we go there I can't help but marvel at how CLEAN their home is...
I could lick her floors and not feel one bit traumatized😋
It motivates me to take the time to try and get at least a little sparkle-ping into my own home.
(I should visit her house once a month just for inspiration!)
She lives a full, busy, helpful life and I admire her, however she does it!
So after a little elbow grease etc. tonight my house feels like it could muster a little ping-shine too!
I will however, NOT be licking the floors😁

No matter what it is...

We can think it

Plan it

Say it

Walk a shut-eye stroll right through it

But we cannot
change this
plain fact...

Nothing takes the place of Do It!

© Janet Martin

Ah, Saturday Morning!

When Jim called this morning he wondered if I’m writing

 (knowing that my morning writing sched. is sort of a thing of the past right now). 

I told him not yet because there are so many other things that need doing too…

this gave me the inspiration for a quickie while I enjoy a late first cup o’ coffee!

Ah, Saturday morning tug of heart

Pulls us apart twixt Want and Must

A tableau filled with common art

So much to see, so much to dust

So much to snare from thoroughfares

Of earth abroad and house right here

Where home-sweet-home is a nightmare

Without the care of Mother Dear

Ah, Saturday morning tug of will

Duty’s demand is strict and plain

But holds a clean-shiny-floor thrill

Those good excuses cannot gain

It knows that satisfaction waits

In simple swish-polish-scrub-fold

Hep-hep-heave-ho, for soon noon’s gates

Are shadow-barred and starred with gold

Ah, Saturday morning tug of Time

A war twixt dish-soap suds and ink

So much to love, so much to rhyme

So much Slow Second Cup to drink

So much to choose, so much to Muse

Of sky-high blues, dew-hues dirt-cursed

Where all my finger-printed views

Insist I think I should clean first

…ah, Saturday morning tug of books

And pens, and hiking boots and bikes

Where autumn leaf-boat dappled brooks

Lure us to look long, if one likes

Ah, Saturday morning tug of hand

Of cloths and pails and brooms and mops

Where nothing else is quite as grand

If mother’s sweep-scrub-polish stops

© Janet Martin

Ugh! said Victoria after I read her this poem before posting it. 

I hate the way this sounds...

(In case you've noticed, cleaning is NOT Victoria's first love😊)

Gossamer of Lavender and Apricot and Pink

What a morning this morning is/was!

 But so was yesterday morning!!

...and the one before that and the one be...oh, well, you know what I mean!

Ah, here it is, the genesis of what we half-expect

And fill with plans that spill to spans no one can resurrect

Where gossamer of lavender and apricot and pink

Soon slips into the blue of new Today’s refurbished ink

Thought is a great inventor, the epicenter of Choice

Where hands and feet without a word can reveal its true voice

And we are wise to realize that thought left unrestrained

Leads into trouble on the double like a beast unchained

Ah morning, soft adorning hilltop, vale and dell soon fades

It envelopes the sweeps and slopes of hope’s fresh promenades

Then it falls prey to middle day and middle day to dusk

Where dusk soft-seals what God reveals when soul is stripped of husk

It may seem commonplace, this daily grace that renders Time

And we may think its ink is but a metaphor for rhyme

Then, maybe we should think again where yen of thought unchecked

Becomes the root that bears the fruit that we did not expect

This rack of bones packed full of groans and wars of want and need

Is quite a fright without the love of God to intercede

Ho, ho, we know that morn-noon-night, when it is said and done

Is but gossamer stitch-by-stitch with which a life is spun

© Janet Martin

These verses stole my breath and cheered my heart this morning!

Hope they steal your breath/heart too!

 Eph.3:14-19

 For this reason I kneel before the Father,  from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,  may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,  and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

I posted this before listening to this...our Sunday morning message which I missed because I was helping elsewhere in the building! The speaker used the above passage in his message!