To Time's Boasters...

The bluff boasts of thistle-scruff, grass-stuff and wind

The Past boasts in pastures of days left behind

The day boasts of hope and possibility

Thought is the boaster of fond memory

The poet boasts nothing but gifts shaped in ink

The mother boasts mercies, the morning boasts pink

We all boast of birthdays and what life has lent

The miser boasts coffers of money not spent

The bigot boasts of anything that he can

The lad boasts of what he will be as a man

The baker boasts as he should, goodness of bread

The field boasts with harvest, the seamstress with thread

The lady boasts soft hands and fine raven locks

The farmer of land he loves, the shepherd, of flocks  

The hillside boasts picnics, the summer boasts flowers

The sky boasts in awnings of sunshine and showers

The clock boasts in tick-tock, the garden boasts plants

Yet nothing boasts anything but what God grants

© Janet Martin

 …For as I walked around and examined your objects of worship, I even found an altar with the inscription: To an unknown God. Therefore what you worship as something unknown, I now proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples made by human hands. Nor is He served by human hands, as if He needed anything, because He Himself gives all men life and breath and everything else.…

Acts 17:23-25 

For Happiness Hunters

The above photo is yesterday's sky...today wears somber gray

I had a disquiet in my contentment-scale this morning;
September seemed such a busy blur of...
ah, yes.
Blessing.

Time's seasoned quest for happiness

Methinks is found in thankfulness

There is no Stuff that love can find

To satisfy the heart and mind

But as we count our mercies, oh

Our happiness is sure to grow

Sometimes it seems thought sets a snare

And we forget how blessed we are

The cry of what we think we lack

Can throw our happiness off track

But, if we count our blessings here

Our wants begin to disappear

Life’s lot of joy and sorrowing

Is fraught with beg and borrowing

‘Though much is taken much abides’

And we, not circumstance decides

The measure of a happiness

That only thankful hearts possess

Earth’s war of hurt is never won

Until our spar with dirt is done

But life is kinder if we believe

‘It is more blessed to give than receive’

 Thus, in giving thanks we will find

Happiness for heart and soul and mind

© Janet Martin

The measure whereby we give

Is the measure whereby we live~

Proof of a Life Well-loved

Lord, when my life with its joy and its strife

Is chiselled down to bare size

All that I ask for the fruit of its task

Is a crop of hard good-byes

© Janet Martin

My mother-to-mother heart is full of hugs and prayers for my sis who was dreading this morning's good-byes to a daughter who is on her way to Thailand for 6 mos.

Where Nothing New Exists...

In unexpected places nature graces us with awe

Each day is like a window-seat where what we thought we saw

Is unlike anything we’ve seen; as bud and berm untwists

And we are taken by surprise where nothing new exists

Look up; look down, then all around, there is no second place

In nature’s gallery each entry is a masterpiece

Where halls of hill and field exhibit Wonder free of charge

And we are to be pitied most if we miss God at large

This is the stomping ground where Ancient Covenant abides

As long as earth remains heaven unchains its season-tides

And we, like pioneers discover for ourselves, amour

Because no one has worn the skin that we are in before

Hello, ye yellow Sun-flower, farewell, spring-summer-fall

Look down; look up, time’s testament is like a madrigal

Its penmanship of trembling lip and Hunger’s tug-of-heart

Draws from an age-old inkwell, Original works of art

© Janet Martin

 That which has been is what will be,
That which is done is what will be done,
And there is nothing new under the sun.

Eccles.1:9