How To Make The Most Of Life

 Look down,

Look up...

Don't miss a drop from Today's sparkling cup!

Happy 5th day of September, everyone! 

In Canada and USA we are celebrating Labor/Labour Day!

If we would do well, my love

On this small stint of sod

We should greet every step with awe

And every day with God

If we want more out of Here

Then this small canon heed

And try to make the most, my dear

Of every moment-seed

If we wish to seek and find

Ah, wise are they who live

Knowing that what we leave behind

Is the best we can give

If we would do well, my love

With each new grant of grace

We should seek guidance from above

Meek-mindful of our place

If we want more out of life

We will find what we crave

As we give humble thanks to God

For this; the day we have

© Janet Martin

Today awaits! 

Live it well!

How many more wait?

No one can tell!

Today awaits...

to all the same

Past and future

No one can claim

Today awaits

An awesome bit

Future and past

Are hinged on it

Let's hug someone

Say 'I love you'

And do the best

That we can do 

Today, God's gift

To you and I

Let's give Him our

Best reply

Janet~

It is in Awareness of Time's Gift,
we give the best we have
to live...

Psalm 15

O Lord, who shall sojourn in your tent?
    Who shall dwell on your holy hill?

² He who walks blamelessly and does what is right
    and speaks truth in his heart;
³ who does not slander with his tongue
    and does no evil to his neighbor,
    nor takes up a reproach against his friend;
⁴ in whose eyes a vile person is despised,
    but who honors those who fear the Lord;
who swears to his own hurt and does not change;
⁵ who does not put out his money at interest
    and does not take a bribe against the innocent.
He who does these things shall never be moved.

Whispers of Time

 Summer's gaudiest plumes fall prey to September's russet highlights.

Futile to fret, my love,

Futile to cry

My, how time’s measure of

More kens the sigh

Turmoil and tempest-tune

Tugs at the heart

Murmurs of summer-noon

Slipping apart

Hold me, my darling,

The nearness of loss

Keens the awareness of

Love’s albatross

Time runs its bow across

Earth’s violin

Darling, we feel its touch

Undo our skin

Futile to fret, my love

Futile to cry

We are all whispers of

Time passing by

 

© Janet Martin

There They Go!

 Mel's new digs!

There they go

…to nooks

And crooks

With books

Where walls

And halls of

Independence

Taste better

Than anything

Mom cooks

...for now :)

© Janet Martin

How Long

Nobody knows how long before

This Time we breathe becomes a door

To where we evermore will be

In a place called eternity

Nobody knows how long until

This block of tick and tock is still

And only what remains appears

Without clockwork of days-weeks-years

Nobody knows how long life’s place

Of hope, redeeming love and grace

Will wait before Death opes a Gate

Where calling then will be too late

Nobody knows how long will be

The vastness of eternity

But this we know; believed, denied

The promises of God abide

© Janet Martin

 For there is no difference between Jew and Greek: The same Lord is Lord of all, and is rich to all who call on Him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” How then can they call on the One they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the One of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone to preach?…

Romans 10:12-14

 Let us hold resolutely to the hope we confess, for He who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to spur one another on to love and good deeds. Let us not neglect meeting together, as some have made a habit, but let us encourage one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching. 

Heb.10:23-25 

A few acapella favs for you to enjoy this Sunday morning...

  

Summer Run Wild...or When Crickets Sing

When crickets sing we know Time’s wing

Is heavy with impending frost

And suddenly we hear the sound-

Less sound of life’s sure-footed cost

Where all we have and hold is rolled

Into the cold of letting go

Heat-rippled dust and wanderlust

Becomes the toll beneath the snow

When crickets sing heart-hollows ring

With echoes of summer nigh-spent

And senses, numb to living’s sum

Are keened to loving’s discontent

The harbor where summer laid bare

Her laughter, lilting gold and blue

Is gray and tossed with hours lost

On some far star-struck avenue

When crickets sing summer is king

But only for a little while

Its burnished jade cannot dissuade

The hand where Grand Farewells beguile

Past garden plot our meager thought

Rambles like a barefooted child

Through dusk’s so-long to find the throng

That serenades summer run wild

© Janet Martin

Anywhere, anytime, this time of year cricket-minstrels entertain 24-7 !!