Happy Valentine's Day!

A Valentine's Poem for rich and poor,

young and old,

single or wed

Today with all         its wonder waits

Who knows what will     befall   No need to fear;

nothing escapes The Greatest Love of all.  The heart,

 though primed with good intent…Is not a chocolate sweet

Its love is human, bred and bent  With hunger and deceit

But oh, what hope and happiness Instills this mortal glove

Because Someone saw fit to bless…Man’s want

and need with love; the best of this world’s

 treasure-trove can never fill the part

That God intended for His

 love that satisfies

the he-

art

© Janet Martin

We choose the language of wine, chocolate, roses

He, crown of thorns, sop of gall

He, by example showed love suffers crosses

He proved that love conquers all

So when love does not look like we envisioned

With starry-eyed fantasy

Lord, remind us of Love's ultimate mission

Remind us of Calvary

Weight-Bearing Exercise

 I got this new toy to add to a routine that was becoming a little ho-hum...not!

But I got it anyway to keep the old muscles challenged😊

 I was at a quilting today, hosted by my oldest sister.

 She invited aunts and cousins who spent many days gone by together 

but hardly ever see each other anymore!

A precious time was had by all!

We found out that we moms all have this weight-bearing exercise in common!

Bend your knees and bow your head

Trust the Lord with all your heart

Leave your weight of care and dread

With He who sees, ‘not in part’

God is strong when we are weak

So, when fear threatens, hit repeat

 © Janet Martin

We Die A Thousand Deaths, It Seems...

this poem?...when Realization hit a-fresh

how life is filled with daily deaths...

and it is futile to clench the fist 

where what we hold dissolves like mist

and what we cherish will fall prey

to the vast world of yesterday

So, pray the Lord to fix our trust 

Beyond this shadow-land of dust

(or as the case is right now; ice and snow!)

We die a thousand deaths, it seems

In death of days and death of dreams

The glory-tide of morning sweeps

Across time’s shore to phantom deeps

And draws upon its deadly wave

Footsteps that haste toward the grave

Love learns to let go as it clings

To tender ties of frayed heart strings

Where echoes, like coloured balloons

Bob across long-lost afternoons

And wake within this wisp of breath

A tug-of-war-twixt life and death

…where breadwinner and beggar meet

And barter on a common street

Where hunger chimes beneath the skin

Of rich and poor, like next of kin

Where what is will soon fade and lie

Like shadows when dusk dims the sky

…and life, for all its wish and whim

And love for all its verve and vim

Trembles within a fragile frame

That soon returns from whence it came

Where, with the breath of days and dreams

We die a thousand deaths, it seems

© Janet Martin

Mr. Winter Gayle

 Not sure if the fiddle music Victoria was listening to while baking influenced this one?...😉

note; this photo was an 'easier to ask forgiveness than permission' shot:)
I told her I'll remove it if she likes but she has now given me permission to
'not worry about it'!

Third Round of his rumpus within a week!

Take a break already!!

He breaks from his tether; a busker of breeze

Ruffles the feathers of fellers and trees

Without form he storms the earth, reckless and bold

Playing the streets like a fiddle of gold

No crowd kindly gathers; no clapping hurrahs

No nickels tossed with purple knuckles because

He is a wild rolling, bone-chilling bum

Playing the earth like an old tin drum

He is no crooner; he frazzles the fell

Tromping with trombone of highland and dell

Daring the dreamer to dance all alone

Playing the stream like a glass xylophone

Blue-lipped, he must be, but no one can say

He keeps the fans of his music at bay

In his own right, an infamous super-star

He plays the sky like a steel guitar

Mr. Winter Gayle, no one swings wide their door

To hail your carriage or plead an encore

But from windowed bunkers we watch you perform

While you play your number one hit; Winter Storm

© Janet Martin

On Saturday he forgot himself for a while

and played a soft snow-globe serenade...

 simply lovely!

With Love And All Its Gladness Lent...

With love and all its gladness lent

Like gardens bent with flow’r

Where laughter’s sparkling element

Delights the common hour

...where summer is a state of mind

In spite of season's toll

Unraveling the ties that bind

The hunger of the soul

…where wonderment too rare for words

To phrase love's ways in full

Is coupled with life’s deepest hurts

And sorrow’s sacred pull

For with love’s fond and splendid bliss

Flows grief’s fine-mingled art

Dear, love is not a carefree kiss

Or for the faint of heart

Love is a holy happiness

For in its cup of cheer

Shimmers the bittersweet caress

Of its most tender tear

© Janet Martin