Christmas Forever and Ever, Amen

They can ban Him from the shopping malls

From politics and schools

They can clamor for free speech

Saying He goes against its rules

While they shout false acclamations

In their efforts to destroy

I simply want to tell them

They can never steal our Joy

They can say it’s just a story

‘Bout an ordinary man

Jesus didn’t come from glory

To fulfill salvation’s plan

And while they pile, compile their lies

Above earth’s highest slope

I simply need to tell them

They can never steal our Hope

I AM is not some common thing

Mortal can over-throw

He cannot be abolished

Just because we say it’s so

I AM abides; His power reigns

Beneath, around, above

And in spite of their vilest claims

They cannot steal His Love

They can’t take Christ from Christmas

Laws, ramparts won’t keep Him out

They cannot banish Jesus Christ

Though they may scream and shout

I AM prevails; no law detains

What His Spirit imparts

Joy, Hope and Love ever remains

In true believers hearts

© Janet Martin

...for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory

Forever and ever,

Amen

Matthew 6:13

I was at a lovely Christmas Tea this morning and someone mentioned that a local LARGE shopping mall declined to display the Nativity Scene. After a public out-cry from believer's and the fear of losing business, the Nativity Scene is in place:)
I'm so glad that whether it is there or not, They can never stop Christmas! Happy Holiday will pass, as all things temporal...but NEVER Christmas. Hallelujah!

The out-cry for preservation is not for our satisfaction
We believe, and therefore are compelled to take action
Not with violence, but with love and prayer
for our children, and their children
because we care...

Birth of a Poem

Joy of first snowfall

Prayer breathing hope

Whisper of longing

Summer’s calliope

Thrumming of raindrop

Echo of sigh

Little boy freckles

Youth slipping by

Dance of a season

Sparkle of tears

Kisses of farewell

Flicker of years

Gleam of love’s promise

Dream of a child

Twilight around us

The wind, wooly, wild

Grace of new morning

Surge of the sea

Laughter of children

Baby so wee

Free, phantom fingers

Strumming the corn

These are some things

Whereby a poem is born

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside Prompt: A 'birth' poem

Preparing For Christmas (an edited re-post)

Poinsettia for the table

Bloom of festivity

Pretty little angel

To grace the Christmas tree

Lights and lovely candles

Lending a gentle glow

In tiny golden circles

Wee choirs in the snow

Cookies, cakes and puddings

In volumes quite obscene

Large and tiny presents

Wrapped in bright red and green

Songs extol the season

And malls the latest rave

Excuses become reason

As dollars become brave

Stress finds brand new victims

And cheer loses its mirth

All in the preparation

For 'goodwill, peace on earth'

Shopping lists extended

Beyond the budget’s creed

Holly, jolly merchants

Disguising greed as need

Christmas Eve descending

We brave the cold perhaps

To find within a chapel

A pew, where we collapse

My house sure looks amazing

The food, a work of art

Wouldn’t it be something

If this had been my heart?

Janet~

I'm reminding myself early this year:) It's so easy to get caught up in the superficial side of celebrating, even without intending to.

...To Celebrate His Glory

A Heavenly King

Does not need things

To celebrate His glory

He came to earth

In humble birth

To live Love’s greatest story

His perfect love

Desires of us

Not heaps of earthly measure

But from His throne

He knows His own

In hearts filled with His treasure

© Janet Martin

I'm so glad we do not need 'things' to celebrate the birth of Christ!

Poetics Aside Prompt:  Write a birth poem. Write a poem on the experience of giving birth or witnessing birth, or feeling reborn in anyway.

Another Day is Born

Even now it starts to steal

Up from the abstract brink

Where Time upon its obscure reel

Issues another wink

The frozen tree etched flawlessly

On back-drops of Unknown

Stands small in nature’s deity

Stripped of its gracious crown

The hush of deep-night slumbering

Fades now as duty’s feet

In rush of moment-numbering

Hastens into the street

The moon recedes into the west

As from the softened east

Flows mercy’s faithful promises

Compassion’s moment-feast

And where by night our song had died

It rekindles the morn

As out across the country-side

Another day is born

© Janet Martin

Poetics Aside Prompt: Birth Poem.
(I had a little chuckle because I wrote this poem and the one above it before I checked out the prompt. 'That was easy,' I laughed as I saw the topic:)

Of Disappointment and Perspective

The sting of disappointment

Wanes as we remember

God does not see statistics

Or percentages or numbers

He is not interested

In the boast of our ‘smarts’

But rather, he searches

And knows our hearts

One cannot be

Both proud and wise

There is nothing hidden

From our Maker’s eyes

The boast of the mouth

Reveals many flawed parts

But God knows the truth

For He sees our hearts

The sting of disappointment

Is not quite so sharp

If we ‘trust in the Lord

With all our heart’

A foolish man looks

In the mirror and forgets

That God sees beyond

The face on his head

© Janet Martin

This Year It's Up to Us

This year, oh God

Please help us

Help us all to see

Beyond our own desires

To our neighbor’s poverty

And this year God, oh help us

To do more than simply say

‘I should do more’

But let this be

Our prayer in every day

…this year God

Oh, help us

To see far beyond our greed

And give us love, enough to care

About our neighbor’s need

And this year God oh let us

Never dare to be excused

Because of things

We want to buy

While a poor child is refused

Help us to remember

To do good

Lord, in Your name

For when it comes to hunger

Rich or poor, it feels the same

© Janet Martin

 If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,"
but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? James 2:16

Of 'Hopeless Semantic' Scribbles...

and yes, I'm a hopeless romantic too;))
(have you done this? I know I have; not with a camera but while I wait on my daughters at the mall)

It was meant to be

my relationship with you

vowels, consonants

woven into

a whimsical wish

or a beautiful dance

of passion, desire

and romance

Of wisdom, surrender

of fantasy

and oh, darling

of endless possibility

 Janet Martin