Rock of Ages

What pierces the darkness?

What banishes doubt?

What leaves the soul deeply stirred?

What feeds our hunger

And soothes our grief?

Only one thing; God’s Word

What reassures us

As hope slips away?

What keeps our will undeterred?

What heals our sorrow

And quenches our thirst?

Only one thing: God’s Word

What is sure; changeless

In this world of change

Where the lines of virtue are blurred?

What remains steadfast

In spite of the age

Only one thing: God’s Word

What comforts the lonely

What strengthens the weak?

What never grows old, though oft heard?

What can we trust in

Without dismay?

Only one thing; God’s Word

© Janet Martin

Yesterday morning an elderly man shared how is SO thankful that God’s Word is a sure, steadfast, changeless Rock of Ages in every season of life…His wife recently suffered a stroke changing their lives immensely, and this man’s faith shone in the conviction and humility of his words.

Please pray for Mel and Irene if you read this. I’m sure they would appreciate it.

Beautiful Bittersweet

Life leaps and seeps in synchronized pulses

Graciously giving as it tenderly wanes

Someone’s first sunrise is another’s last sunset

Summer is winter on far yonder plains

Live fully each moment, but keep your clasp light

Farewell is torment if we hold too tight

See how the dawning in blue-gold atonement

Banishes yester’s dismay from our brow

Great is His faithfulness, new every morning

Hope and forgiveness in even tides flow

As forward we tumble and backward we slip

And onward we stumble in His tender grip

Life breaks and takes in its living and giving

Patiently enduring our sorrows and schemes

Youth cannot claim its white crown of wisdom

Wisdom does not return fair, youthful dreams

One portion expands as another depletes

Life, oh thou beautiful bitterest-sweet

© Janet Martin

Dawn rends the scrim

of another day

What will it give

or take away?

Before dusk settles

on borders far west

Will we have given

this day our best?

Have a wonderful day! Go with God.

Who Do You Think You Are, Janet Ruth Martin? ...an accrostic poem

Poetic Bloomings Prompt; Who Do You Think You Are?

PART I – WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

This week Marie and I ask you to write the poem as an acrostic, using your full name as the subject. The title of your poem should be “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, (Your Name Here)?”
Your poem should touch on your life, or some aspect of it until now. Remember, the focus is you! Tell us. Who do you think you are?

Just a simple girl, daughter, sister, mother, wife

Amazed every day at God’s gifts in my life

Night-owl when seduced by a word or a thought

Educated? By the world’s standards I’m not

That’s me

Rolling pin collector, lover of rhyme

Under the tutelage of a teacher called Time

Thinker, often quiet with sudden bits of crazy

Homebody; my favorite wild-bloom is a daisy

Mother and wife; I’m humbled and awed

And I would run scared, but for the patience of God

Rover of woodland and nature’s perfection

Thankful for moments of tender reflection

Incredibly blessed; undeservedly so

Normal? Nerd?  Nut?  Maybe, but by the grace of God I go…

© Janet Martin

Of Seasons and Purpose...a Sonnet

Image Source: http://www.personal-development-is-fun.com/best-life-quotes.html

Seasons; the filament of mortal year

Four-season worth and never more or less

The palm on which we lay our toil and tear

A cradle for our grief and happiness

Four quarters make a whole, thus nature’s course

Of seasons flow, not by human design

Beneath this universe a Mighty force

With naught but thought, these galaxies align

As we submit; for none dissuades the tide

Of Time’s incessant ever-forward stride

What lies beyond this cosmic altitude?

…off-spring of Adam’s marred and sullied bliss

Why is the spirit shaken and subdued

As we behold life’s dust-fraught wantonness?

The beauty poured against earth’s frigid sod

As spring imbues its budded tendril; hope

And hope yields harvest if imbued by God

Returns at last to fill this earthen scope

Seed to the soil; proprietor and slave

Sleep side by side within a common grave

What is the purpose of the boasts of men?

What is the point of life when it is spent?

Is it the hope of three-score-years and ten?

Is this the pinnacle of our content?

And when we lay aside our gathered worth

To fold our hands upon a lifeless breast

Is this the sum of it; as cold, hard earth

Reclaims our empty shells of nothingness?

Is the allotment of our labored breath

Simply a forward tumble to our death?

Four season’s worth; these are the fronds of dust

The purpose of life’s gift we cannot grasp

Within the greedy fingers of our lust

But with the eyes of faith its truth we clasp

For Immortality put on a man

Creator bore the robe of servant-hood

As perfect love endured His Master-plan

Securing hope for sinners through His blood

We are not victims of four-season sod

Bought with a price; we are the heirs of God

© Janet Martin

...and this is the Living Hope which imbues duty with beauty, pain with gain, daily strife with Life .

Amazing Grace

Moody and Vexed

Twilight descends in layered blue

Quite befitting, I suppose

For it arouses thoughts of you

So far away and yet so close

In remnant wisps and twists perplexed

Tonight the sky is moody; vexed

Time is not tangible to grip

And yet I feel it amplify

That space beyond my fingertips

Broadening twixt you and I

In remnant wisps and twists perplexed

Tonight my heart is moody; vexed

The evening sky is sullen; still

In solemn robes of cobalt hue

It draws you close against my will

And I succumb to missing you

In remnant wisps and twists perplexed

The evening air is moody; vexed

© Janet Martin

The heavy quiet tonight feels like the evening is mourning
the swift passage of summer...
...and life

J~

I Won't Forget You  Jim Reeves

Collections...

Some collections we store on shelves

And some we place in bins

Or baskets or crocks or wine-racks

If the collection is rolling pins

(for those who’ve wondered how to display them:)

…I have a rare collection

Portraits of priceless art

I preserve their perfection

Safely in my heart

 Picture perfect memories

Collected lovingly

Placed on walls within my heart

To keep me company

God, let me make each moment

A priceless work of art

And one that would be fitting

To store within my heart

© Janet Martin

Simple Pleasures

There are many pleasures

This world would suggest

But I love the measure

Of simple things best

I love the reprieve

Of a garden nook

With a cup of tea

And a poetry book

I love to yield

To guilt-free temptation

Strolling a field

On a mini-vacation

…beneath blue-sky canvas

Of cotton-tuft art

While sun-flower glances

Soften my heart

I love the music

Of walnut tree sighs

Etched in perfection

Against summer skies

Of all the fine pleasures

This world would suggest

I love the measure

Of its simple things best

© Janet Martin

A Country-summer Morn

 This morning from the deck...

Blissful threshold

Brink of dawn

Sea of diamonds

Grace the lawn

Soft breeze strums

The misty morn

Of honey-wheat

And tasseled-corn

Green-gold patchwork

Quilt expands

From the Giver’s

Gracious hands

Tender salutations

Pour

Lavishly

From heaven’s door

As croon of

Dove and meadow-lark

Tune with joy

The thinning dark

While farmer’s rise

To face the test

Of faith and toil

Before harvest

And in the stall

The cattle lows

And in the field

The clover blows

While in the air

Its heady scent

Culminates with hay

Pungent

Aroma, pure
And nature-drenched
...the thirsty summer-soul
is quenched

Blissful threshold

Lily-clad

Rejoice, rejoice this day

Be glad

© Janet Martin