In The Skin of You and I...

Mayor Neil Driscoll wins this class...

This waning garb of skin

That we inhabit here

Before the Whole of Life begins

In death will disappear

This prelude to it all

Is of dire import

For everyone will hear The Call

That cometh from the Lord

Then, face to face with He

Who died so we may live

Each one will hear on bended knee

The verdict He will give

…there is a Promised Land

There is a Promised Lake

The soul’s inheritance depends

Upon A Choice we make

….in waning garbs of skin

Where flesh is bound to die

But oh, never the soul within

The skin of you and I

© Janet Martin

At last night's truck/tractor-pull, young, old and in-between gathered to cheer on competitors bound for what the announcer dubbed ‘The Promised Land’ …the 300 foot mark indicating a Full Pull.

…and many times the crowd heard the announcer declare ‘ that they were just shy of the Promised Land’.

 In tractor- pull terms this simply means waiting ‘til the next pull to try again.

Not so in that Once For All Call to Eternity

Hidden Harbor

Between thunderstorms July gathered the hem of her golden evening-gown and disappeared into a blaze of glory...

All things come but to pass

Ethereal escapade

This very moment I hold fast

Hastens to its parade

From Here to There, how swift

What is becomes what was

This very afternoon adrift

On twilight’s faint applause

Parting’s presumptuous pain

Patterns its warlike art

Upon the dark; something like rain

Falls heedless from the heart

…where all things come to pass

Time follows time, but I

Would like to find the hour-glass

That harbors sweet July

© Janet Martin


On the last day of July I always feel like I'm at a farewell party. Do you?

Free For the Taking

Click on images to enlarge...

The ride home from picking up groceries took a good deal longer than expected because...

It’s free for the taking

Sight’s bread for the breaking

Where nature is waking

From want, worship’s ways

Creation delights us

And grandly invites us

Nay, dearly incites us

To give God full praise

Time’s four-season splendor

Gifts vistas of grandeur

Too countless to number

Of sky, sea and sod

The Father of mercy

To creatures unworthy

Fashions from fronds earthy

Faint glimpses of God

It’s free for beholding

God’s glory unfolding

A Masterpiece holding

Hope’s foothold in space

We pause in our plunder

Witnesses to wonder

As silences thunder

With goodness and grace

© Janet Martin

The earth is satisfied with the fruit of His works. Ps.104:13

Summer Morning...

The sun gloats like an egg cracked into soft blue-buttered sky

Night’s shadow-world floats downstream to a tune of rise and shine

Earth is a raft of dew and dust, upon a summer sea

Come, all-aboard hope’s Trust and Must, fresh-poured for you and me

This day of grace is not like any place that we have been

It holds within its folds Unknowns that none of us have seen

Its tug-of-heart and unspun art waits on a beaming tray

Come, all aboard, the Lord abides within each come-what-may

Then amble through yon meadow, love, and ramble through yon grove

A tide beneath, around, above surges t’ward winter’s trove

And soon the sun that sizzles in this sky blue frying-pan

Will drop into a fizzle of Time’s catch-me-if-you-can

Morning’s platonic presence spills in essence pleasant, pure

Experience has taught us that it will not long endure

Thus we cannot afford anything other than our best

Come, all aboard this summer morn sailing toward the west  

© Janet Martin

 ...these two pics just in case you're hungry;-)

Well, I must sail away to the grocery store before we go anywhere else…hoping to roast mountain pies with the little guys I babysit, for supper tonight.

If the internet works I’ll show you how we do them tonight or tomorrow…generally our internet fizzles out by noon…

our internet didn't work last night and is so slow this morning!! my blogging days might end if it doesn't change:(

It ended up being too dry and windy to chance a fire so the mountain pie plans need to wait for another time... for those of you asking 'what is it?' I'll try to explain...Spray irons (pictured below) with cooking spray. Place slices of bread in each half of iron and fill with pizza toppings...we use sauce, cheese, pepperoni, ham, pineapple, onion, peppers, etc. Don't make then too full. Roast on fire til bread is toasted and cheese melted.
There is no end to what you can stuff them with but the key is the cooking spray or you can't open them without tearing the bread.

Nothing But Alas

Time’s value is priceless

It cannot be bought

Or hoarded

Or salvaged

Or sold

Then look, lest the treasure

We seek is for naught

And nothing,

Alas, but

Fool’s gold

© Janet Martin