Thursday, September 9, 2021

Art-Throb


The closing of another chapter in my child-care 'book'...
as tomorrow Little Girl becomes School-girl!
 
"You're so big and I'm so little" She said as she looked at the pictures
And I said 'yes'💕
(why do I feel so small and how has she gotten so big?!)




I wish that I could paint for you
A very lovely work of art
A keep-sake I would give to you
To show the colours of my heart

To paint the perfect shade of joy
And spill with artistic finesse
The preciousness of girl and boy
That fills my heart with happiness

For little tot can teach a lot
To we, weathered by Father Time
And if I could, I’d paint, not jot
The spot that overflows with rhyme

…where poem then, mingled with prayer
My aching art-throb must appease
And ink must etch in frames of air
A Masterpiece of Memories

…for like the bubbles that we blew
An era pops and disappears
Leaving behind for me and you
A gallery of rainbowed spheres

…where laughter lilts and echoes bob
Like butterflies and petal-falls
As pictures waft from love’s art-throb
To hang forever on heart-walls

© Janet Martin

Last week these two left just a few days before becoming proud 
new big sister and brother to a new baby sister!
This 'job' tugs my heart every which way but loose💗💖

(I tried a few times and EVERY time
just as I clicked he looked down😀😘)


...and last but not least Grand-sonny starts school today!
When my daughter sent me the pictures
I told her I don't know whether to laugh or cry💖💖💖


Wednesday, September 8, 2021

Fringe Benefits







Thought's 
grand landscapes
of desire
cannot compete with
The One
who sets
welkin worlds afire
with the
setting of the sun

Want's 
wildest imagination
Pales 
beneath the
 Breath of He
Who evokes
pure adoration
From fringes of
Majesty

Janet Martin

Psalm 19

I was going to share only the familiar first verse
but couldn't stop reading...Hallelujah!!

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

2Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they reveal knowledge.

3They have no speech, they use no words;

no sound is heard from them.

4Yet their voice b goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.

5It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,

like a champion rejoicing to run his course.

6It rises at one end of the heavens

and makes its circuit to the other;

nothing is deprived of its warmth.

7The law of the Lord is perfect,

refreshing the soul.

The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,

making wise the simple.

8The precepts of the Lord are right,

giving joy to the heart.

The commands of the Lord are radiant,

giving light to the eyes.

9The fear of the Lord is pure,

enduring forever.

The decrees of the Lord are firm,

and all of them are righteous.

10They are more precious than gold,

than much pure gold;

they are sweeter than honey,

than honey from the honeycomb.

11By them your servant is warned;

in keeping them there is great reward.

12But who can discern their own errors?

Forgive my hidden faults.

13Keep your servant also from willful sins;

may they not rule over me.

Then I will be blameless,

innocent of great transgression.

14May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart

be pleasing in your sight,

Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.


Soaking in September



Sometimes a sweet, leisurely soak in September's tub
is exactly what the doctor ordered (or would if we'd ask!)
Somehow summer slipped by with not quite enough
just-sit-and-soak-it-in siestas!
So I took one today after the tots left 
before tackling a bowl full of tomatoes to preserve.





Soaking in September’s sauna steeps the soul with sheer delight
Ochre summer-embers don a dialect we cannot write
But feel; stealing, reeling through us in a sonnet, bittersweet
Like the wilding winds that woo us when the world is fast asleep

Soaking in September’s beauty is the perfect getaway
Where the darling call of duty makes Prudence time’s constant prey
And we could, if we’re not careful, miss the bliss of Here and Now
Where the tautness of toil’s bridle keeps us tethered to its plow

Soaking in September’s Garden leaves little to be desired
Before autumn begs our pardon as Eden-glints are retired
Buzz of bee in bell of flower, iced mint-tea or lemonade
Garnet orb in orchard-bower, pulsing cricket-serenade

Soaking in September’s glory makes us feel at home-sweet-home
Where each treetop tells a story and each posy spills a poem
Where the pleasure of earth’s treasure that we gather gratefully
Fills fruit-cellars with its measure and hearts with pure ecstasy

Soaking in September’s splendor wakes a worship-song within
As our spirits grow more tender where summer is wearing thin
Where the gleaming goldenrod, like tapers streams through field and dell
And, where we all become neighbours in the limelight of farewell

© Janet Martin

Garnet orb in orchard-bower, 


pulsing cricket-serenade (well, kind of...
and after-work rush-hour 😐)




Petal-Poetry

 

A lot of people are picking up pieces/branches/trees/buildings
after storms that rolled through the region last night...




The poetry of life's season's brings high and lows
where ebbs and flows strew both laughter and tears
like the petals of a once lovely rose
that blooms and disappears...



September is the season of cherishing
 fast-fading flowers
and fast-growing children
(all the first day of school photos on Facebook remind us💗)

Tallest Little girl is eagerly counting down 
the last few day's at Janet's house before she is School Girl!


The poetry of summer’s rose
Composes wonder’s sighs
But like the day that comes and goes
Cannot escape demise

The loveliness of laughter’s lilt
Gilt-etches yester-years
A bud that blooms but soon is spilt
In sorrow’s silver tears

Do not stand long beside the urn
That cups the lifeless ash
Where soon the dust of live-love-learn
Settles, where bare feet dash

Where sparkling surf of summer-tide
Cannot evade Time’s score
Where, like waves, mighty in their stride
Cannot usurp the shore

…where aftermath of Eden’s woes
In turmoil’s throes, still pours
But cannot snuff Calvary’s rose
Which mortal hope restores

The poetry of summer’s plume
After its narrative
Is planted on an echo-tomb
Of moments we still live

...to give its glance our utter Most
Of thought and deed and speech
Each new day like a guest we host
Soon ushered out of reach

© Janet Martin

2 Pet.3:11
Since everything will be destroyed in this way, 
what kind of people ought you to be?
 You ought to live holy and godly lives...





Tuesday, September 7, 2021

Joy Complete


So many potential titles for this poem;
So Much More Hope
Ultimate Relief
Prelude to the Prize
 Miracle-Pinnacle (Faith that makes us whole)
Complete In Him


Yesterday Victoria and I squealed with giddy delight,
in the culled, mulled colours 
and brisk breezes of September



This morning is no exception;
Apple-pear-cider crisp and tart


So much to love in the middle of life's muddle...
this morning's muddle in Canada includes back-to-school
meaning SO much emotion for first-time scholars and parents of those and,
first-time high-schooler, post-secondary education students etc.

So much out of our control means we need 
Someone to anchor us SO MUCH!


Col.2:8-10
Beware lest anyone [e]cheat you 
through philosophy and empty deceit, 
according to the tradition of men, 
according to the basic principles of the world, 
and not according to Christ. 
 For in Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead [f]bodily;
  and you are complete in Him, 
who is the head of all [g]principality and power.

So much to try our good intent
So much to lose and win
Desire and discouragement
Battle beneath our skin
So much to disappoint and tempt
So much to pick and choose
So much to do, where consequence
Soon keeps its promised dues

So much to vex the ardor of
The dreamer and the dream
So much to test the heart of love
Where idol-temples gleam
So much to taunt, where want runs rife
But boast cannot fulfill
So much to make the most of life
So much to steal its thrill

So much we touch then strew behind
So much hunger and thirst
So much for ties of death to bind
So much, both blessed and cursed
Where best and worst are woven through
Vestures of faith and fear
Where so much that we say and do
Can’t keep a conscience clear

So much to turn to prayerful trust
To repent and confess
So much more God, merciful, just
Father of forgiveness
So much more love where grace achieves
The convict’s full release
So much more hope as faith receives
So much more joy and peace

So much more hope; ah, this alone
Can make our joy complete
So much uncertain and unknown
Yet, so much comfort sweet
Where only genuine belief
Overcomes doubt and dread
Then we find ultimate relief
As we trust God instead

Complete in Him; ah, pray that we
Find this world's paradise
Complete in Him; ah, may this be
Our prelude to The Prize
Complete in Him; longing fulfilled
As much as possible
Complete in Him; fear's storm is stilled
By the Invisible 

© Janet Martin

  

Monday, September 6, 2021

Of the Wonderful Worth of Work

Happy Labour Day!

Every good and perfect gift is from above..
James 1:17
even the humble spud!
Which was the fruit/gift of Saturday's toil!

In all toil there is profit, but mere talk tends only to poverty.

All over our country we can find Help Wanted Ads and Signs! 
Some today, prefer a government cheque and idleness to
the incomparable worth of work!
If we are blessed with health and strength we are fitted for toil!

Some today strongly push an agenda where hard-working
labourers should give the government power over the proceeds
to dole and divvy, with discretion that seems to have rejected God's Word
and is devoid of His pinnacle of wisdom!

There is much in scripture to condemn idleness/laziness
and praise hard work!
Below is only the tip of the iceberg on 
what God's Word teaches about working and idleness.

Eccles.2:24-25 NIV
A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink
and find satisfaction in their own toil.
This too, I see, is from the hand of God,
25for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?


Through sloth the roof sinks in, and through indolence the house leaks.

Slothfulness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle person will suffer hunger.

She looks well to the ways of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Now we command you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,
 that you keep away from any brother who is walking in idleness 
and not in accord with the tradition that you received from us.

For even when we were with you, we would give you this command:
If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.
For we hear that some among you walk in idleness,
not busy at work, but busybodies.

And to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, 
and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, 
so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.

I passed by the field of a sluggard, by the vineyard of a man lacking sense, and behold,
 it was all overgrown with thorns; the ground was covered with nettles,
 and its stone wall was broken down. 
Then I saw and considered it; I looked and received instruction.
 A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest,
 and poverty will come upon you like a robber, and want like an armed man.

The desire of the sluggard kills him, for his hands refuse to labor. 
All day long he craves and craves, but the righteous gives and does not hold back.

Col.3:23
And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men,

Colossians 3:17
And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, 
do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, 
giving thanks to God and the Father by him.

The high calling of labour is a call we dare not shirk
To toil for God and 'neighbor' is life's greatest, worthwhile work
For the spoil of our toil, as we try to do our good part 
Will satisfy us with the joyful wealth of thankful heart
Where if we are so able by the health that God so grants
We ought to set the table through the work of our own hands
And give to those who have not because they are sick and poor
And live with the awareness of who we are working for
Then, with glad gratitude work hard and give the Giver laud
A servant in a vineyard whose Master is Holy God

Janet Martin

Sunday, September 5, 2021

Dear Almost-Autumn...The Way I Fall In Love


The way a red and orange leaf caught our attention last night
as my friend and I strolled through her yard
The way each butterfly in flight is a sun-catcher
The way fading flowers begin to number summer days
The way sedums begin to blush...
The way September steals in then sweeps us off our feet
Is all part of the way we begin to condition our heart to embrace the art of autumn...

The way that sunshine turns translucent, wings of butterflies

The way one’s breath is stolen by September’s sanguine skies...

The way that jars snare summer after its Season is through...

Is the way, Almost-Autumn, that we fall in love with you...


The way that sunshine turns translucent, wings of butterflies
The way one’s breath is stolen by September’s sanguine skies
The way that jars snare summer after its Season is through
Is the way, Almost-Autumn, that I fall in love with you

The way farewell’s suggestions start to seep through woodland tress
The way it tweaks soul-strings still thrilled with petal-happiness
The way The Inevitable presents its points of view
Is how I start to tell my heart to fall in love with you

The way bloom’s fringe turns brittle but Beauty remains intact
The way earth’s tinge showcases established matters of fact
The way no coaxing can revoke what is constant and true
Is the way, almost-Autumn, I yield to the touch of you

The way we cannot stay the heavy hand of come and go
The way wild asters spill to hill and field like purple snow
The way time’s give and take can make a heart ache with desire
The way late day starts earlier to stoke dusk’s shadow-spire/fire

The way goldenrod lamps gleam from creekbank, fencerow and woods  
The way each milkweed plume is primed with silver parachutes
The way the air begins to wear a chill we nigh forgot 
Is the way, Almost Autumn that I can forget-you-not   

The way the world is twirled on a four-season carousel
The way we straddle tides saddled to hello and farewell
The way we start to cherish clock-shaped treasure, moment-spun
Is the way that I always fall in love with You, Autumn

Dear almost-autumn, bear with me while I learn to begin
To undo summer’s tendrils tangled somewhere ‘neath my skin
Somehow, the way you wait while I grapple with gold and blue
Becomes the way, almost-Autumn, I fall in love with you

© Janet Martin






Believer's Blessing


Psalm 56:3-4

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
4In God, whose word I praise—
in God I trust and am not afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me?



No matter what befalls
Where trouble's thralls increase
You answer the believer's calls
With hope and joy and peace

This world is full of woe
Fear's forces never cease
But no power can overthrow
Your hope and joy and peace

The soul that trusts in You
From worry, finds release
As you run the believer through
With hope and joy and peace

Janet Martin