Each Day...

 To rejoice on a glorious August morning is not a hard command to fulfill!

Pray we trust the Giver of each day in all it unfolds!

Each day is like fresh Freedom

A heaven-to-earth nod

That fuels the momentum

That draws us back to God

Each day is like permission

To try and try again

To renew hope’s ambition

For labour ‘not in vain'

Each day, a celebration

Where Mercy’s full proof brings

A royal invitation

To serve the King of kings

Each day is like a treasure

That gleams with Great Unknown

Where He who grants its measure  

Will not leave us alone

Each day is like a canvas

That captures vim and verve

And fills unmarred expanses

With proof of Whom we serve

Then make each day love’s mission

And wait with watchful eyes

For the breath-breadth transition

From earth to paradise

© Janet Martin

The last stanza to this poem just kinda wrote itself first thing this morning as I prayed
before my feet touched down on the tarmac of Today...

The progress of this poem however took a few hours...
as Little Girl arrived
and we did our morning lo-o-o-o-o-ng swing-ride
a trampoline jump,
flower-garden-weeding
breakfast and so-forth
 while I tried composing stanzas in-between😉
Now its
Back to the Very Important Business of Swing Ride!

Bittersweet of August Day...

August Day
tips its decanter

Beauty burgeons,
bittersweet

For we sense
in bloom’s bright banter

And in cricket’s
tweet-tweet-tweet

And in hazy, lazy
high noon

And in twilight’s
cooling sigh

That the season,
once a cocoon

Has become
a butterfly

© Janet Martin

Ere Summer Like a Flower Fades...

Farewell, sweet July!

Ere winter drapes sugary shawls over the stooped shoulders of earth

And Jack Frost leaves his feather-scrawls on parchment void of flower-mirth

Where Queen Ann’s Lace and chicory and columbine and goldenrod

Have tendered their rainbow melee to rest in cold, dark chests of sod

Ere fence-line finery is doffed and orange lily-lanterns snuffed

By winds once green and whisper-soft as silk that pops the milkweed tuft

Ere songbirds launch a southward flight and woodlands shed their shushing tress

And all the land is staunch and white; shrouded in sterling quietness

Ere lap and slap of lake-song stills and surging splurge of surf is spent

And steely surface seals the rills; ere petal from pinion is rent

To moulder in the dust of days beneath a soldered garden path

Ere summer slips into the haze of wind-strummed wild-grass aftermath

Ere summer like a flower fades and Beauty dons more somber hues

Ere farmer wields the harvest-blades and winter-weather fills the news

Let’s love this season’s wonder-storm without wishing for something more

Ere What We Hold loses its form like waves as they are washed ashore

© Janet Martin

Look To Jesus...

 In case we've become disillusioned or discouraged...

and because devotion/dedication demands disciplined diligence!

Shoulder to lean on and heart of compassion

Mankind’s Redeemer, salvation secure

His thoughts much higher than ours, purely human

He is no liar; His promises sure

He never leaves us though often we grieve Him

Though doubt persuades us to trust what we see

Just like a loving dad cares for His children

He waits to welcome us back tenderly

His…Ear always open to prayers of surrender

His…Forgiveness free at the foot of the cross

His…Love, never-failing, fills service with splendor

His…Hope heals the hurts carved by longing and loss

Then rise to the race set before us to finish

Look unto Jesus as we climb Time’s stairs

Eyes on the Prize; let love’s Highlight diminish

Sin that entangles and hinders our prayers

Kneel at the feet bearing scars of rejection

(Now through glass darkly but then face to face)

Look unto Jesus; through His resurrection

Death has no sting; we are saved by His grace

© Janet Martin

I Cor.15: 54-58

When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable and the mortal with immortality,

 then the saying that is written will come to pass: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

“Where, O death, is your victory?

Where, O death, is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.

 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast and immovable.

 Always excel in the work of the Lord, 

because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

Dear Summer

Tender summer, take Time slowly

Linger on the garden path

Lead us through avenues tolling

With impending aftermath

Sweet, fleet summer, tame your hours

Teach the student of your days

To live gently among flowers

And give your Creator praise

Glorious summer, do not hasten

Do not leap into your grave

Where wheat fields like golden oceans

Draw the farmer to its wave

Dearest summer, linger longer

Where our bare feet stir your dust

Feeling younger, freer, stronger

In a world of wonder-lust

Soulful summer, sweet sun-strummer

Weave your blossom-binding spell

Ere we grasp at chaff-like shimmers

To hear sea-song in your shell

© Janet Martin