A Few Of My Fav'rite Fall Things

Leaf-papered walkways and pumpkins on porches

Gusts snuffing gold poplar-tapers and torches

Tea after twilight and long evenings

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

Frost-dazzled daybreak and warm socks and ‘knickers’

Orchard a-bustle with rosy-cheeked pickers

Harvesters humming hope’s thanksgiving hymns

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

When the blooms sleep

When the woods weep

When summer has been ‘had’

I think of a few of my fav’rite fall things

Then I don’t feel so sad

Raindrops on windows paint quaint water-colors

Woodpiles replenished as well as fruit cellars

Gardens unraveled and slum’bring ‘til spring

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

Book-baskets filled with more than wishful glances

Wind-brooms in ballrooms with rake-partnered dances

Wide-eyed tots tickled by autumn’s heaped wings

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

When the temps drop

When the nuts plop

When I feel time’s sting

I think of a few of my fav’rite fall things

Then I feel like a king

Fresh bread and veggie-soup suppers, not salad

Kiss on my face by a cheeky breeze-ballad

Startled by music from leaf-winnowed strings

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

Ling’ring to worship on sweeps of corn-stubble

Drinking the thrill of a hill steeped in purple

Spellbound by belfries where Death’s red gong rings

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

When the jay calls

When the day crawls

Out of bed, gray-clad

I think of a few of my fav’rite fall things

Then oh, I feel so glad

Lure of a longer way home cuz steps crackle

Better-than-ever big bite of fresh apple

Cider, pies, fritters, crisps, muffins, dumplings

Apples are ten of my fav’rite fall things   

The wind is a busker, each grass field, a fiddle

Plump milkweed-pods primed to pop down the middle

Hail the Creator, whatever life brings

Earth is a-blur with fall-favourite things

When the gale moans

When our stiff bones

Seem to creak with cold

I simply start counting my fav’rite fall things

Then I don’t feel so old

Fireside chats and a snooze for no reason

Sweaters and hats that we choose for the season

Chasing leaf-cartwheels like cats chasing strings

These are a few of my fav’rite fall things

Mountain ash garnets set on sky-blue satin

Stark silhouettes sketched on dusk’s coral curtain

Crisp country mornings where fog fragment clings

These are a few of my favourite fall things

When the gale roars  

When the sun snores

When flow’rs turn to seed

I simply start counting my fav’rite fall things

Then I feel blessed indeed

© Janet Martin

© Janet Martin

Silk-soft, Soundless, White-whispered Hush

We've had enough white fluff here to make us think about winter tires etc.

...but happily nothing has finished off fall quite yet!

Silk-soft; from other-worlds aloft cloud-caldrons spill in snow

To gild fall’s fading flare with winter’s first frosty hello

Rollicking chill frills still-life poses of fence-post and tree

It settles in late roses; dusts with stars the dowdy lea

Soundless, like moments rife with life and transformation-bent

First snow wakes in Want’s weathered skin, a child-like wonderment

It stirs the human heart with art on wall-less arcades hung

The melting of a moment like snowflakes caught on the tongue

White-whisper kissed, the sky untwists the cork from flasks that brim

With sparkle-serenades that deck the hills and barren limb

Where it seems we sang hymns of spring not very long ago

Now lilting leaf lies still beneath the frolic of first snow

Hush, hush, the brush that dashes diamond-glitter to the world

Will bring, when bloom-time comes once more, the bitty bud unfurled

…to everything under heaven there is a season, oh

Silk-soft, soundless, white-whispered Hush ushers in fall’s first snow

© Janet Martin

We Are Able (through the Rock of Ages)

One of my favourite flee-to 'comfort and hope' hymns...

For we, who seem to be a people perched precariously

Upon these Times and Places filled with Great Uncertainty

It leaves us humbly grateful that in all life’s push and shove

We know that We Are Able through a Father’s faithful love

For we who oft relinquish understanding for meek trust

Where live-laugh-love-weep-pray is but the glove of dust to dust

Know all the answers of this world are but verbose regale

Without the promises of God that can and will not fail

For we, who flee on bended knee before a Father’s throne

And place upon the altar of His grace, each stepping stone

It leaves us humbly grateful that in all we cannot see

God’s love so kind and faithful never forsakes you and me

For we who bear a Living Soul beneath this dying skin

God sent His Son so everyone can access Hope through Him

Then, though the Unknown gapes before us to and through the grave

We know that We Are Able through God’s Love, mighty to save  

© Janet Martin

 For this reason, even though I suffer as I do, I am not ashamed;

for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that He is able 

to guard what I have entrusted to Him for that day.

 Hold on to the pattern of sound teaching you have heard from me, 

with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. 

Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, 

with the help of the Holy Spirit who dwells in us. 

2 Tim.1:12-14

Now this is what the LORD says—

He who created you, O Jacob,

and He who formed you, O Israel:

 “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

 I have called you by your name;

you are Mine!

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you go through the rivers,

they will not overwhelm you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be scorched,

and the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the LORD your God,

the Holy One of Israel,

your Savior;

Isa.43:1-3

Matters of A-Tent-ion

 Soon, soon this tent of starry nights

and appetites will fold

Pay Attention, for time's lease

runs out on young and old!

A month ago we were 'pitching our tent' at many never-before-seen-sights!

Whether we are pitching our 'tent' at the Fairmont Le Château Frontenac

 or beside the red-dirt roads of PEI

 by the harbour...

on a hilltop...

....let's pitch it with purpose because

 every single day we pitch our 'tents' on the Never Before!

Enjoy!

Upon the scattered remnants of a day, a week, a year

We pitch our tents; the fabric of moments so soft and sheer

Where contentment and discontentment vie and set the tone

That fills intent with humble grace or growl’s grumble and groan

Like flames that lap at kindling, dreams and plans are turned to ash

The morning flares, climbs air-borne stairs and fades on wester’s sash

Time toasts our toes and tweaks our cheeks and noses with its grin

Some wear its extent on their sleeves, some keep it tucked within

This Potential we populate on sites of stone and sod

In spite of toil and test is like a gift we should applaud

God decks its halls with leaf-flecked walls, its floors a gorgeous sweep

Of hill and dell; its awning blue-cloud-clothed or star-frothed deep

…as seasons bloom with what either ennobles or depraves

The fragments of its plume soon strewn across Time’s unmarked graves

Where, on the scattered remnants of a day, a week, a year

We pitch our skin-tent on a God-lent patch of Now and Here

Until earth’s shore hinged to Forevermore unveils The Goal

Each Tent shook out ‘til all that remains is Immortal Soul

And, there is no patent or permit past That Last Vast Must

Then pray the Lord thy soul to save before grave’s dust to dust

© Janet Martin