Praise For Winter Days

The snow reminds me a little of the sea; so many shades and textures!

With white-laced frills

And ice-glazed chills

And landscapes silver-starred

With buildings tucked

In clouds soft-shucked

Just like an old postcard

With mug ‘o hot

And hug from tot

Swaddled in winter clothes

Where all our skin

Is bundled in

Save eyes, pink cheeks and nose

With crackling log

And sparkling bog

And plup-blup-porridge-poem

With luxury

Of family

All happy to be home

With polished brooks

And bookish nooks

And vistas, clean and grand

We raise our praise

For winter days

And winter’s wonderland

© Janet Martin

The Only Say, The Only Way; Truth

We will not win without it; the Truth

Whether we can prove it or not It Was, Is and Will Be!

Nothing can touch it or change it. Ever.

What a comforting, sobering Reality!

Sometimes as I sit the the keyboard and whisper, God?
He lends a painting of His Creation,
sometimes He sends words of warning and admonition! 

Sometimes a poem takes a bit of time to complete 

and sometimes He lights a fire where the writer can hardly keep ahead of the words!

This was such a poem, inspired by a missionary's newsletter written in a prayer of surrender

and hunger for Truth in a world comfortable with lies!

Picking but a few diamonds from The Mine of Truth!

It is so easy Lord, to twist the Truth into a lie

And make its law more pleasing to appeals of ear and eye

Your promises unflinching, oh, but likewise Your commands

Where word are clanging cymbals without love’s obedience

The arrogance and stubbornness of man will lead astray

And annul best intentions if we do not know The Way

The Way, The Truth, The Life, whose blood lost sinner’s reconciled

Is Righteousness and Holiness and Precept undefiled

Pride goes before destruction, haughtiness before the fall

Lust’s foolishness and greed always opposes Love’s True Call

Of ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with heart, soul, strength and mind

Thy neighbour as thyself’; this Greatest law for all mankind

Like a Lamb led to slaughter, King of kings and Lord of lords

Did not revile against the mob; the Saviour of the world

Though spat upon, and beaten, crowned with thorns, falsely accused

Led to a cross and crucified without sin, torn and bruised

To suffer in man’s stead the Pardon for humanity

To all who repent and believe The Truth will set them free

The Author of redemption’s Plan suffered, but for Love’s Laws

So to, the humble suffer for Hope’s High and holy Cause

Truth; Steadfast through the storms of love and life and strife and change

Abides in spite of futile tries its curbs to rearrange

Fear seeks to sire doubt and doubt leads to loss and despair

Faith clings to Truth; its cross will lead to joy beyond compare

(Therefore the Handbook of all Truth no one should disregard)

Ignorance cannot save, and yes, The Way is straight and hard

Where peace that passes understanding leads us to The Prize

Of Everlasting Life with God in Heaven’s Paradise

Where faith will become sight; The Word of God The Final Say

His Truth, the Victory where death and hell is done away

Small wonder then, the devil like a lion roams about

Seeking souls to mislead, devour , before his hour/pow’r runs out

© Janet Martin

Will our youth know The Truth?

Where God's Truth fills,

the world's lies hollow, hollow, hollow

into a howling hunger that cannot be satisfied!

 

Deception is a delightful-looking dish designed to poison and kill!

Where We Are All On Common Ground...

 When I consider your heavens,
    the work of your fingers...

...what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
    human beings that you care for them?

Ps.8:3-4 

Two little girlies and I watched the sky wake up (and we thought this first collage was The Show! 

 ...but NO! that was just the prelude!

 Do you ever wonder how He does it again and again and again?!

...and apparently we've seen nuthin' yet! (click link)

Where the world fell ‘round our ankles in plush puddles dark with dusk

Now the halo of dawn’s awning plays host to ten thousand dreams

Where we wore the weary whispers of toil’s elemental husk

We wake now to gorgeous gushing of daybreak’s unblemished streams

Where we always yearn and hunger where hope dwarfs the steadfast sky

And where loveliness is always unfolding ways to amaze

Where we learn to linger longer where time is a butterfly

And where no one is above the fist-a-cuff of hard-trust days

Where we seek to find the good where evil tries to thwart and win

Where the heroes of this world are oft disguised as ‘common folk’

Never boasting of the battles won on grounds beneath their skin

As they press toward the prize for the High Call, in servant’s cloak

Where the holy Whole of Faith no one can fathom, full of holes

Where waves of heartache roll and troubles vex the Creature’s plan

Where the promises of God, the humble follower consoles

Leaving brokenness astonished with Dave’s age-old ‘what is man?!’

Where we’re all in this together and no one gets out alive

Where a smile can pass on happiness in a world full of woe

Where everyone needs someone and where everyone should strive

Just to be a friend indeed for tis by God’s grace we all go

© Janet Martin

Glorious Masterpiece

 My motto for childcare: 'try to make the present pleasant'.

No, these kiddos will never remember these days but to them 'now' is all there is

and so they teach us to slow down and hear the separate notes that become the full song!

sometimes young parents and childcare givers energies are challenged by the 

'look-at-every-teeny-wonder' pace of youngsters but there is so much beauty and harmony

 we miss if haste the Hymn!

Try to make the present pleasant

Lend to life, love’s kind increase

Glean from common chords the essence

Of life’s glorious masterpiece

Try to turn time’s do-re-me rotes

Into more than mere ho-hum

Moments are like little eighth notes

In the song they will become

Take the music sheet of morning

Fill its bars with highs and lows

Harmonize life’s love and longing

Like the thorn that bears the rose

Set the strings of ‘Yet’ a-quiver

Who knows when life’s song is writ

as Time trembles from the Giver

To the composer of it

So, seek to make the present pleasant

Soon the tune of time will cease

Where each moment is the essence

Of life’s glorious masterpiece

© Janet Martin

what can compare in worth to a life well -lived; to moments well-whiled~