Recognizing Right Now For What It Is...

 Once upon a time there was a little boy who declared that 'tree apples are way more 'liscious than store apples'...

 Sitting beneath fruit-studded limbs seemed to give him an idea...

How do I reach them, he asks...

uh-oh, how do I pick them? he wonders, hanging on for dear life...

...and they all munched happily ever after;-)

Sometimes those moments of no-second-thought

Return in moments of rather-have-not

Then we remember the splendor of days

We don’t remember for their common ways

Sometimes, when life is a kick in the lip

We look with new eyes at what we let slip

Then, often we are quite dumbly surprised

At how life’s best days are humbly disguised

Sometimes our wish and want puts us to shame

For while we wish we miss what Past will claim

Sometimes the treasure of ‘best memories’

Is as simple as pleasure of child, apples and trees

Sometimes (how about right now) we should look

At what we see like an almost-mem’ry-book

Then I am sure we would gentle our stare

And handle 'right-now' with tenderest care

© Janet Martin

Who Doesn't Love Fall?!

Who doesn't love fall colors? asks Linda, here.

It suddenly primed my heartstrings with what waits in October, so I'm just passing it on;-)

 We still have three days of September 2016 left to make memorable its existence.
Let's do it with purpose!

Who can resist the undoing of earth?

Nature unravels its offspring of birth

Gardens grow weary yet heave-ho becomes

A rainbow-halo; squash, pumpkins and mums

Who is immune to the blue-bluster breeze?

Teasing and tugging red whispers from trees

Sun-dappled apple-sweet orchards are bliss

We are all lovers when love is like this

Who can say no to fall’s sumptuous fare?

Full-color frontiers and frost-flavored air

Harvest-hulled hillsides, paint palettes so vast

That no earth-artist is fit for the task

Who can disdain what no hand can prevent?

After the laughter of summer is spent

After the flower is stripped of its bell

Color climaxes in woodland and dell

Who in this season of farewell will sing?

Death shrouds the globe in robes fit for a king

Landscapes surrender while splendor runs rife

Dusk deepens early, the wind is a scythe

© Janet Martin

Grappling With Grandeur

Belief extols God’s excellence

Heaven and earth attest

As visage feasts on evidence

And wonders at the rest

The fount from whence today is drawn

Will not forever seep

Nor from its seeming fathoms spawn

New dawn to light the deep

This is the day the Lord has made

Its taper fills the skies

It wills response as accolade

And homage to its prize

For we have nothing more or less

God grants to all the same

This day of grace, His promises

For everyone to claim

When time’s moot moment-thirst is quenched

And fists unclench, what then?

This day is God's gift, mercy drenched

Before That Sure Amen

The worry of this groaning heath

Cannot, will not prevail

God is the sole soul-barer, Death,

Yon solemn heights will scale

The port from whence today is lent

Will someday seal its bars

As Last Breath lifts us past this tent

And its small splash of stars

Last Breath, Doom or Deliverer

With yea or nay we choose

When God both Taker and Giver

Lets Death collect His dues

 

© Janet Martin

 For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 6:23

John 4:36
Already the reaper draws his wages and gathers a crop for eternal life, 

so that the sower and the reaper may rejoice together.

To We of Unpopular Creed...

To we who place our faith in more

Than logic born of what we see

To we who cling to Word of yore

And not modern philosophy

To we who have believed, received

The promise of Inheritance

(Though it seems many are deceived

Only because of ignorance)

To we of unpopular creed

And targets of prophesied hate

Lord, it is for lost souls we plead

Before it is too late, too late

© Janet Martin

 If the world hates you, understand that it hated Me first. 

If you were of the world, it would love you as its own. 

Instead, the world hates you, because you are not of the world, 

but I have chosen you out of the world.

Remember the word that I spoke to you: 

‘No servant is greater than his master.’ 

If they persecuted Me, they will persecute you as well; 

if they kept My word, they will keep yours as well.  

But they will treat you like this on account of My name, 

because they do not know the One who sent Me. 

If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin. 

Now, however, they have no excuse for their sin. 

John 15:18-22

I Wonder Where The Crickets Go

 Suddenly morning seems like a banquet-hall after the show is over and the crowds are gone...

I wonder, wonder where they go

Those minstrels in black tuxedos

Where morning, noon and through the night

They played their tune without respite

Until one day we realize

Their song has faded to wind-sighs

Earth like a banquet-hall bereft

Where all but fall of leaf has left

© Janet Martin

Where The Bough Surrenders

It is universal; Grief

Where the bough that braves The Leaf

Succumbs to a Dauntless Chief

Suave, its laws of sorrow

Ah, the will and want of us

Cannot usurp It because

IS, is always hinged to was

…today to tomorrow

Panhandlers of tick and tock

We are beggars of a clock

Doling bowls of sky and rock

Bloom-strewn walks and stubble

Triumph is a short-lived fete

This world has no easy-street

Profit wars with loss, defeat,

Fortune wars with trouble

Man is of few days and born

To the ways that laugh then mourn

That which offers no return

For swift season-splendors

Farewell finds new footholds, oh,

Holding turns to letting go

Leaves fall like gold-russet snow

Where the bough surrenders

© Janet Martin