Thursday, October 15, 2020

How Indeed or How? In Deed


How faithfully his hand bestows
Inside each little bud, a rose...






(early morning childcare means late day poem-post😊)
In spite of the gloomy rain outdoors there was still  lots of sunshine indoors


Sometimes the days that I secretly worry might be a little long and indoor-dullish
turn out to fly by in a flurry of happiness!
And I humbled-ly whisper, 'thank-you God'

How kindly He our need supplies 
He thrills us with constant surprise 
How faithfully his hand bestows 
Inside each little bud, a rose 

How manifold his majesty 
As we behold a fringe of He 
Whose ways and wonderments extend 
Beyond what man can comprehend 

How often He protects and keeps 
While we proceed with flying leaps 
Into a heap of wish and whim 
Without a single thought of Him 

How patient is the One who hears
The tender tenure of our tears
How wise and loving the design
That tests the branches of the Vine

How trustworthy and absolute 
Is He who no one can refute
How holy is the ordinance
That requires obedience

 How never mistaken or late
How ever loving, ever great 
How dare we live and never laud 
Our everlasting Father, God 

How kindly He supplies our need
How we should worship Him indeed
How faithfully his hand bestows
The grace whereby each mortal goes

© Janet Martin 

Psalm 100:5
For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; 
and his truth endureth to all generations.



Wednesday, October 14, 2020

A Servant's Song/Prayer


Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone desires to come after Me, 
let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.
Matt.16:24




Watching the morning-mist evaporate before my eyes
was a vivid image of this verse
 What is your life? 
You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.
James 4:14  
Makes us reevaluate our goals and motives,
doesn't it?!




Lord let my life, whatever be 
Lift up a hymn of praise to Thee 
And let my love, through deed and tongue 
Be poured out in a servant’s song 

Lord, let life’s labour be more sweet 
In worship poured through hands and feet 
Lord, let my soul-hunger be fed 
Through sustenance of Living Bread 

Lord, Thou the Potter, I, the clay 
Oh, let me not despise Thy way 
But in whatever doth betide 
Let Thy peace the storm override 

Dear Lord, this is my humble plea 
Let Your Divine Light flow through me 
Let Your love my flawed love refine 
To make my 'light-house' shine, shine, shine


© Janet Martin 

'Do you want to die and face the Lord 
Knowing you didn’t give Him your best?'
from this message below



 




Sovereign Silence

Is it the brooding before dawn?


Is it a missed-kissed bower?





Is this your Sovereign silence 
The brooding before dawn 
A test of faith’s endurance 

The place where you reveal 
The power of your Spirit 
To conquer Belial 

After earthquake and fire 
A Message you deliver 
To temper heart’s desire 

Is this glory’s hiatus 
Of three days in the tomb 
Before the Rock of Ages 

Is this a mist-kissed bower 
Hope’s silent suffering 
The bud before the flower 

© Janet Martin 


(this morning felt bathed in this hymn)








Tuesday, October 13, 2020

If This Should Be Time's Final Fling


Psalm 62:11-12
One thing God has spoken, two things I have heard:
“Power belongs to you, God,
and with you, Lord, is unfailing love”;
and, “You reward everyone
according to what they have done.”

Dawn is someone's farewell hymn today!
What if it is you or me?

Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written 
in your book before one of them came to be.
Psalm 139:16


If this should be time’s final fling for you or I today 
If dawn would be a farewell hymn with no more songs to play 
If buttered toast and coffee was our last repast before 
The Soul sets sail through time’s thin veil into Forevermore 

If today one of us would cross that dark and mystic deep 
As you or I were ushered from time’s thrum of wake and sleep 
Are we prepared for God who gives to take it back again 
And seal the pledge that drives a wedge between our soul and skin 

Are we ready to be rewarded for what we have done
To hear what is recorded in a ledger read by One
Where what is written there will prove the God we worshiped here
(yes, we should all contemplate this with reverential fear)

If Opportunity today would grant its final let 
Would what we do and say fit us to leave without regret 
Are we ready to meet the One who knows heart’s yea and nay 
If this should be time’s final fling for you or I today
 

© Janet Martin

Monday, October 12, 2020

Of Gratitude Parades...


Short and sweet is what all time feels like
with those we love...
 

My camera kept dying and my phone camera stinks but you get the idea💓💕😍

picture below; Victoria reading Jack and the Beanstalk
"fe-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman"



Happy 7th Anniversary, Rob and Emily




I’m thankful for the days that always seem to fade too fast 
Where, when we are together dusk’s shadows seem swiftly cast 
The past is always hungry for the present I have learned 
The eagerness of hours leaves not one moment unturned 

I’m thankful for the memories after a day is spent 
To press soft on my reverie love’s bittersweet lament 
Where we are always hungry for more time with those we love 
And farewell always rushes in before we’ve had enough 

I’m thankful for the blessing of a place to hang our hats 
And call it home sweet home; a place to recharge and relax 
I’m thankful that the heart can hold, long after laughter fades 
The reel that plays its pictures back in gratitude-parades 

© Janet Martin



Nothing Puts Us At Ease Like a Trek Among Trees

 

Nothing puts us at ease like a trek among trees...





 


the woods I was in today wasn't quite as colorful as the one from the other day
so I'm tucking in some of those shots for a pop of colour!



nothing puts us at ease like leaf-canopies...


 

nothing puts us at ease like stature of trees...






....where the hill and the field culled of earth's goodly yield
evokes a most conflicting tide...




Nothing puts us at ease like a trek among trees 
In autumn apparel bedecked 
Nothing satisfies hearts like the ache earth imparts 
As farewell spills in thrills unchecked 
Where the hill and the field culled of seed’s goodly yield 
Evokes a most conflicting tide 
As bitter and sweet with equal force compete 
In autumn’s arid countryside 

Nothing puts us at ease like the fine harmonies 
Of wind-song from wood-calliope 
Where over our heads the lofty lintel sheds 
Fall’s Magnum Opus, note by note 
A kaleidoscope swirling hunger and hope 
Into a heartache-humbled hymn 
As the hierarchy of time’s supremacy 
Beams bold on the red and gold limb 

Nothing puts us at ease like simple luxuries 
We take out of doors to full-taste 
Where the nip in the air grips and makes us aware 
Of preciousness we dare not waste 
Nothing woos and consoles like the anthem that tolls 
From fall’s late-day gold-dappled eaves 
Where change cannot faze or estrange nature’s ways 
Emphasized in soft-falling leaves 

Nothing puts us at ease like the stature of trees
Though they make us feel oh, so small
Nothing puts us at ease like cool sass in the breeze
Rousing a rush of pure fall
Nothing puts us at ease like autumn canopies
In orange-scarlet-yellow tat 
Nothing puts us at ease like a trek among trees
On a crunchy and colorful mat 


© Janet Martin 







Saturday, October 10, 2020

So Thankful

 

Jim declared to me as I was proof-reading this poem to him
that no one has time to read to the end of such a long thing...
My response; I suppose what I write is not for people in a hurry, 
so if you are in a hurry (as we all often are!!)
I hope one or two stanzas of this poem will bless and cheer you

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving Weekend!
(I might post some 'happiness moments' later.
Depending how the day goes!




So thankful that in spite of all the trouble living brings 
We have more to live for than this world’s present sufferings 
So thankful that hope is far more than a four-letter word 
It is a death-defying faith in Jesus Christ our Lord 

So thankful for the harvest that is almost gathered in 
For wonder working worship (not magic) beneath our skin 
So thankful Mercy knows how we are formed; that we are dust 
His loving kindness fills the gaps in mankind’s struggling trust 

So thankful to be hemmed in by a cloud of witnesses 
For Author and Perfecter of the faith that we profess 
So thankful to be in the sacred service love bestows 
Where each task serves a greater purpose than appearance shows 

So thankful for the blessings that we wear and taste and touch 
For ears to hear and eyes to see God’s handiwork and such 
So thankful that in spite of all we cannot understand 
The One who does not leave us comfortless is in command 

So thankful that when fear threatens to capsize faith’s frail barge 
No matter what the circumstance God is in perfect charge 
So thankful, like the storm-tossed sea of Galilee without 
The winds and waves within obey when we relinquish doubt 

So thankful for life's simple things (though nothing really is) 
When we consider the well-spring of blessing’s genesis 
So thankful for each season that leaves hearts speechlessly stirred 
At beauty’s myriad arrangements ever undeterred 

So thankful for a little plot to call our home, sweet home 
Where humble prayer covers each cot; so thankful for the poem 
That leaps and swirls, surges and rushes like a waterfall 
Until the poet sets it free in form of madrigal 

So thankful for tea kettles, fuzzy mittens, apple trees 
For leaves, tumbling like tawny kittens on the bonny breeze 
So thankful for love’s hugs and laughter to cheer Adam’s curse 
For God with us in health and sickness, for better or worse 

So thankful for the morning when the old is new and bright 
For mercy’s Living Proof adorning earth and sky with light 
So thankful for gardens and woodlands, ebb and flowing tide 
The undulating panorama of the countryside 

So thankful for so much where ink and time are not enough 
To tell of all the ways we taste the miracle of love 
So thankful for today to fill all it does not disclose 
With praise and praise and praise to God from whom all blessing flows 

© Janet Martin 


  

Psalm 65

Praise awaits[b] you, our God, in Zion;
    to you our vows will be fulfilled.
You who answer prayer,
    to you all people will come.
When we were overwhelmed by sins,
    you forgave[c] our transgressions.
Blessed are those you choose
    and bring near to live in your courts!
We are filled with the good things of your house,
    of your holy temple.
You answer us with awesome and righteous deeds,
    God our Savior,
the hope of all the ends of the earth
    and of the farthest seas,
who formed the mountains by your power,
    having armed yourself with strength,
who stilled the roaring of the seas,
    the roaring of their waves,
    and the turmoil of the nations.
The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders;
    where morning dawns, where evening fades,
    you call forth songs of joy.
You care for the land and water it;
    you enrich it abundantly.
The streams of God are filled with water
    to provide the people with grain,
    for so you have ordained it.[d]
10 You drench its furrows and level its ridges;
    you soften it with showers and bless its crops.
11 You crown the year with your bounty,
    and your carts overflow with abundance.
12 The grasslands of the wilderness overflow;
    the hills are clothed with gladness.
13 The meadows are covered with flocks
    and the valleys are mantled with grain;
    they shout for joy and sing.


Friday, October 9, 2020

Fall Is a Flame That Flickers...


I yielded to temptation today
and went for a mid-afternoon ramble...







Gold tallow drips from poplar tapers etched against blue skies 
Always autumn’s Artist authors awe with age-old surprise 
The belfry of green summer has surrendered to the toll 
Of Autumn’s golden glockenspiel spell-binding (or unwinding) heart and soul 

Yield to temptation for in autumn it is not a sin 
Walk slower, linger longer in nature’s veldt, vapour-thin 
And be beguiled by beauty running wild and unrestrained 
Do not a bystander in earth’s leaf-ballad unchained 

The hour of the flower, with each frost grows more fragile 
Sometimes a chore must wait while we explore fall’s favored isle 
What tender torture to be torn between two tugging loves 
The one is a house nice and clean, smelling of spice and cloves 

And other lovely oven-things that bring smiles of delight 
(for mother’s apron strings are wound 'round hearty appetite😉) 
But oh, the other, sweet unrivaled best of ecstasies 
…a ramble through the unraveling tapestry of trees 

Each fall I vow that I will be braver in love’s farewell 
Grief is the price that love must pay; ah, let me pay it well 
So I will let love’s hunger feast upon tossed red and gold 
Where humble wonder is increased as we pause to behold 

Ah, love is far too lonely if we only mourn ‘has-bin’ 
Oh look, time disappears like bean and corn fields gathered in 
Where stubble gleams, silver in frost and golden in the sun 
The bubble of a season wafts, then pops and it is gone 

Today may be the best day left to drink in what remains 
For though we drink and drink not one droplet of colour drains
Till weightless as the glimmer of whisper-borne thistle-silk 
The coppice-torch is dimmed then snuffed by Time’s ethereal ilk 

Goodness and mercy overflow where past and future wed 
To unfold a grand garden full of roses overhead 
Then wonder without wish before cold gales cut to the quick 
Fall is a flame that flickers on yon woodland’s waning wick 

© Janet Martin

The mop and bucket waited just fine till I got back 😀


Baking got done before the ramble...
because well, read the poem and you will see😃