Daily Duel of Dreamer and Duty...What Will It Be?!

Duty and Dreamer seem to clash on a regular basis, as soon as feet hit the floor...

What will it be she sighs as she eyes an empty page 

then turns to heed cries of Master Laundry, Major Lunch-box, Sergeant Fire-starting etc...

Before Sweetest of all Sweet Little Girl arrives...

When the day gleams like a page poem-heady

Star-studded tarp falls from tresses, blue-pink

Unveiling worlds slumber revived and ready

Propped like a bottomless well filled with ink

Fueling duels twixt Dreamer and Duty

Teasing the rivals of prudence and art

Blurring intention where unhurried beauty

Tangles the tether twixt hands, head and heart

What will it be, Duty cries, demand-driven

Seizing the tool that fits her for the fight

What will it be, sighs the Dreamer, star-smitten

Grasping at shimmers of shadow and light

What will become the sum of today’s tally

Will it be to-do lists tackled and checked

Will it be sparkles that glimmer and sally

Snared from the air where whispers intersect

What will be left when dusk gathers its plunder

Who will be victor of soon-to-be spoils

Will page be filled with the thrill of sheer wonder

Or smudged with tokens of love’s urgent toils

What will remain to retain strains of beauty

Felled by the faithful fellow, Father Time

Will the souvenirs of both Dreamer and Duty

Tenderly tangle in keepsakes of rhyme

© Janet Martin

 ...on that note it's off to the races graces!

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, 

do it all for the glory of God.

1 Cor.10:13

Heart of a Woman, Oops, I Mean Parts of a Poem...

Pressed like the petals of last summer’s pansies

Tucked between pages soft-weathered with wear

Lost to the world like a young woman’s fancies

Learning to grapple with fortunes of air

Touching her where she can never quite quell it

Rushing through her like an ocean, salt-starred

Parts of a poem too tender to tell it

Left to the hunger of some younger bard

Almost she hears the blue twilight come stealing

Snuffing the shadows that clung to the hill

Something akin to distant church-bells pealing

Tugs at heartstrings that her hand cannot still

Virile vibrato of fight and submission

Trembles in tempos of over-and-done

Melodies played by a master musician

Lyrics unwritten yet second to none

Time is a ticket to holes in her pockets

Places worn through that no seamstress can mend

Life lends her pictures to tender to lockets

Lost while she had other treasures to tend

Merchant of moments, sweet-dealing untwists her

Barter she must with a foe born to win

While she is learning to turn seasoned whispers

Into a poem that plays ‘neath her skin

© Janet Martin

Enough Is The Stuff That Today Is Made Of...

 When confronted with gloomy forecasts for the future,

what should we do?!

We are not made to carry Maybe’s cares

Waiting to undo its When

Enough is the stuff that today is made of

Let’s leave tomorrow till then

Enough is the trouble today seems to find

Without adding extra stress

Let’s concentrate on what can no longer wait

Today’s almost-happiness

We are not made to bear fear's promenade

Down streets our feet cannot reach

But through prayer-shaped hope we'll be able to cope

With what today has to teach

© Janet Martin

 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, 

for tomorrow will worry about itself.

 Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matt.6:34

Lyrics for this hymn...

Dark and stormy is the desert, 

Through which pilgrims make their way; 

Yet beyond this vale of sorrows 

Lie the fields of endless day.

 O, young soldier, are you weary 

Of the roughness of the way? 

Does your strength begin to fail you, 

And your vigor to decay? 

Jesus, Jesus, will go with you, 

He will lead you to his throne; 

He whose thunder shakes creation,

 He who bids the planets roll.

 'Round him are ten thousand angels, 

Ready to obey command; 

They'll all be there to hover round you, 

Till you reach the heavenly land.

There, on flowery hills of pleasure, 

Lie the fields of endless rest,

 Love, and joy, and peace forever, 

Reign and triumph in your breast.

Our Desperate Need...

Forgive, chastise, oh loving God

The pitfall of man's errant laud

Feeble, the grasp of carnal creed

To comprehend man's desp'rate need

Or the cost of the sacrifice

That paid, once and for all, sin's price

Where He who knew no sin became

The scapegoat for its gruesome shame

And bore on the behalf of we

Our punishment to set us free

Where He who owed us nothing, gave

His Son to overcome the grave

The cross, hope's glorious crux unfurled

To bring life to a dying world

Where we deserve Hades abyss

If we reject such love as this

Where Jesus Christ, through His death freed

And satisfied man's desperate need

© Janet Martin

If we reject God

we under-estimate

the grossness of our sinful state 

and that which word cannot tell

or both Heaven and hell...

Recently I heard a preacher suggest that if every single person received one glimpse

of either heaven or hell, hell would be empty.
so great the glory of heaven, so awful the horror of hell!

The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God

 but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them 

because they are discerned only through the Spirit.

1 Cor.2:14

1 Corinthians 1:18
For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing,

 but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

Living Gratitude

The LORD your God in your midst,

The Mighty One, will save;

 He will rejoice over you with gladness,

He will quiet you with His love,

He will rejoice over you with singing.”

Zeph.3:17 NKJV

Will we, through what we do and say

Show God our gratitude today?

He, who braved evil’s vilest blow

To save us from death’s awful woe

Who did not spare Himself with words

Though King of kings and Lord of lords

He suffered Heaven’s greatest loss

Even to death, death on a cross

Before He proved His deity

And rose again in victory

And thus fulfilled love’s plan designed

To bring salvation to mankind

And still, as ages onward roll

Only His blood can cleanse the soul

If we repent, if we believe

We then, God’s gift of grace receive

So, in this place where passions war

Where longing and contentment spar

Where darkness cannot stave the flood

Of morning and mercy renewed

Where bud with blossom is instilled

And heart is often wonder-thrilled

As earth’s four-season quadrille grants

The compositions for the dance

That vexes this doubt-harassed dust

With opportunities to trust

And to relinquish our grip

Into Hands that will never slip

But will quiet us with His love

And tame the rebel in Want’s glove

So then, as we consider He

Who keeps watch over you and me

Will we, through what we do and say

Show Him our gratitude today?

© Janet Martin

Sacred Quest

 Making the most and the best of each day is intentional...

and is possible with absolutely nothing out of the ordinary!

Thank-you God, for the blessing of ordinary days

where if we look we will find so many reasons to give You praise!

What a thing of beauty, This

Common duty’s home-sweet kiss

Where our home-sweet-laughter is

And our home-sweet tears

What a blessing, have-and-hold

Worth the hurts of growing old

Learning what we once were told

‘Swift time disappears’

How the flip-side of hello

Grips the heart while letting go

Suffering the rending ‘oh’

Of both joy and grief

Keeping us quite occupied

As the morn to eventide

Runs through town and countryside

Like a laughing thief

What a simple happiness

Living in momentous yes

Tuned to Mercy’s promises

Bridging Unknown’s rift

Where God grants a sacred quest

In day-to-day’s awesome test

To make the most and the best

Of life’s precious gift

© Janet Martin