The Way Life Works

Well, said Luke after bravely drying his tears (after a soaker induced by a big bump from little sister while he proudly filled the bird-bath) ‘this is the way life works…sometimes when you pour water you get wet!”

Well, this is the way life works, love

Water makes us wet

And whatever seed we plant, love

Is the plant we get

If we eat too much too much, love

There's ‘too much’ of us

If we overlook God’s love, love

We will fret and fuss

If we want to be ‘nice old folk’

We must be nice young

If we want to keep the peace, love

We must bite our tongue

If we leap before we look, love

We deserve disgrace

If we want to win the prize, love

We must run the race

Yes, this is the way life works, love

We reap what we sow

And the more we learn, we learn, love

How little we know

But one thing is sure and certain

God’s grace grants each day

Aren't you glad, so sweetly glad, love 

That life works this way?

© Janet Martin

In Praise of Green

 Green and gold seem in sort of a duel for dominance these days but this poem is in praise of green

Green spreads its grace across a place that long was void of vim

The slumbering bud and seed wakens whispers to sod and limb

Where hallelujah songs of nature nurtures thankful gaze

As color-wheels of mercy thrill the humble heart with praise

God kisses earth with favor; where green sweeps were held at bay

He breaks the dam that wakes the land that long was brown and gray

Across the countryside a tide impeccable in shade

Most glorious, victorious, gilds mortal's promenade

Hope’s divine intervention renders living proof, green-spun

He never forgets to send spring when winter’s fling is done

Now blue sky is a timbrel and the golden sun a gong

And man a humble minstrel chiming amen to each song

Janet Martin

Treasure Your Mother

 This poem was made possible because a daughter became a mother,

and now I see not only through daughter's forgetful, well-intentioned embrace

  but also through a mother's devoted and forgiving grace

  My mother and her daughters on my mom's most recent birthday

(Mom on far right then us girls standing in order from oldest to youngest)

Treasure your mother

And while you still have her

Tell her you love her

Again and again

Who knows which morrow

May turn into sorrow

When oft you will hunger

To tell her, in vain

Talk to your mother

Dear son and dear daughter

She fed, clothed, held you

And tucked you to rest

So while you still have her

Be kind; don’t forget her

For she like no other

Desires your best

Cherish your mother

Her life’s love and labor

Deserves highest honor

Where memory imparts

The echoes that weather

What none can untether

For she lives forever

In her children’s hearts

© Janet Martin

I have many friends who’ve bid their dear mothers

Their final earthly farewell

Forbid we leave our thank-yous unuttered

And mourn, too late the words we did not tell

Another Mother's Day poem here, by Ann Taylor

 Happy Mother's Day 
 

Can We Help?

Hebrews 13:16 “Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.”

 No one can do everything but everyone can do something!
No one can say yes all the time but everyone can say yes sometimes!

Imagine if, when asked for help

Everybody would go

From here to there without kind care

And answer no, no, no

Imagine if nobody walked

The way of second miles

How sad this life of troubled strife

How empty of its smiles

Imagine if, when down and out

The cry for help would plead

But everyone would hope someone

Besides themselves would heed

Imagine if, when asked for help

Nobody would reply

How hard the way of day-to-day

Would be for you and I

Imagine if, when asked for help
With heartfelt friendliness
Heart-cries would cease, stilled by love's peace
Because we all said yes

© Janet Martin

We (our church-family) has a facebook page that from time to time holds these words 'Can you help?'

Imagine if everyone said 'no'.
Imagine if everyone said 'yes!'

God bless those faithful and sometimes few 'yeses!'

Spring-love

Oh tell me, does the valor of new morning dipped in gold

Bestow hope’s color to your heart that harbored somber hue

Does gladness soothe the sadnesses that ways of life unfold?

And does the hug of spring-love get the better of you too?

Does wonder heal heart-hunger with the art of leaf-laced loom?

Oh tell me, when life’s green umbrella world unfurls once more

And buds break into flower-laughter, after winter’s gloom

Do you fall into spring-love like a song-struck troubadour?

…and are we all poets perhaps, without ink-chartered Must

Does duty don a kinder beauty in nature’s rebirth?

And tell me, does the praise that flows from days of dust-to-dust

Inspire lays of spring-love to the Teacher of the earth?

To linger by the shallows where the swallows dip and dive

To drink from brinks of pink where More out-pours in morn’s ahoy

Tell me, does this not make you feel so glad to be alive?

Where treasure from the trove of spring-love fills our souls with joy

© Janet Martin

Hoping for you, a happy-heart day:)