Trove of Glimmers

 For the sake of the reader and a long must-do task list I must reel in the poetic rush this poem kindled...

She writes to relive, nay, preserve, the sparkle of the splash

Where soon the arms of Must will curve around childhood’s fleet dash...

She writes to ponder in her heart the faithfulness of God

To share the beauty of His art in sky... and sea... and sod...

She writes to feel the warp and wage where past and future merge

She braves the barrenness of page for the rush of the verge

She dredges deeps of heart and soul for a poem to snare

Like a fisherman born to troll phantom oceans of air

She writes to relive, nay, preserve, the sparkle of the splash

Where soon the arms of Must will curve around childhood’s fleet dash

Where, what in the moment may seem a very staying sum

Soon wafts like fragments of a dream she suddenly woke from

She writes to linger on the brink where dusk’s plum shadows sprawl

To paint with nothing but black ink, the wonder/thunder of it all

Where the drumroll of wanderlust ignores the shores of Time

She writes, to salvage from plumbed dust a memento of rhyme

She writes to garner from a trove of glimmers Bygone-blurred

The pleasantries of life and love immortalized in word

She writes to run her fingers through ethereal echo-fray

Where far to soon the dark runs blue and blush with break of day

She writes to wring from ragged ruin the raw rub of regret

To secure a sense of Still June when long its sun has set

She writes to keep at fingertips awareness of a toll

From which the garb of seasons slips to leave only Her soul

She writes to ponder in her heart the faithfulness of God

To share the beauty of His art in sky and sea and sod

To sift life’s gift with poetry, then share its happiness

To leave behind a legacy of mindful thankfulness

© Janet Martin

No Easy Street ...But God, Faithful and True

Psalm 16:11

You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy;

At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Today I am helping at the funeral of a dear sister in our church family

who lived ninety-nine and a half years on this earth

with many, many joys and trials,

but the moment she closed her eyes the shroud of Time fell away,

the glass she peered through darkly disappeared;

in the twinkle of an eye the corruptible put on incorruption, 

mortality put on immortality!

Thinking about this makes us re-evaluate what really matters, doesn't it?!

In the Sweet By and By

Johnny Cash

(would love to link each line to the scripture but

There is a funeral meal waiting to be prepared💗👑😊🙏)

This is no Easy Street; this ‘fighting the good fight’

This ‘making every effort to Shine forth, a blameless light

To walk as wise, not fools; to be careful to keep

God’s commandments and laws, lest idly, we fall asleep

This is no Easy Street; this walk by faith, not sight’

This ‘renouncing ungodliness’, this ‘suffering for Christ’

This ‘walking worthy of the calling we received

Worthy of the gospel of Christ we confessed and believed

This is no Easy Street; to ‘therefore watch and pray’

To take up our cross to follow Jesus every day

To make faith’s sacred calling and election very sure

To be strong in the Lord through the hardship we must endure

This is no Easy Street; obedience and trust

To follow what is good and to deny all worldly lust

To be rich in good works; to walk humbly and kind

To love the Lord our God will all our heart, soul, strength and mind

This is no Easy Street; to take captive each thought

And not to think of ourselves more highly than we ought

To offer our bodies as a living sacrifice

And to shun profane babbling that leads to ungodly vice

This is no Easy Street; to repay good for ill

To surrender as Jesus did and utter ‘not my will’

To know the Scriptures so that we are thoroughly equipped

To abound in love and good works like our Example did

And give more earnest heed to that which we have heard

To grow in the knowledge and grace of Jesus through His word

To commit to stand firm; to take heed, lest we fall

He who saved us has called us to the greatest work of all

This is no Easy Street; but God, faithful and true

Is rich and grace and mercy and He cares for me and you

Who, through his risen Son, births in us living hope

The Father of compassion and comfort who helps us cope

…and makes us strong in Him; the power of His might

When we put on His full armor, will fit us for the fight

For God resists the proud but gives the humble grace

His eyes are on the righteous who long to behold His face

…who strain toward the goal; with holy zeal press on

To win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in His Son

Who lay up heavenly store; who have ‘beautiful feet’

Whose joy is in the Lord and not in quests for Easy Street

This is no Easy Street; the strait that few will find

That leads to life when soon we leave this world of strife behind

Where the fulness of joy and pleasures evermore 

Make worth the little while and mile that we suffer before

© Janet Martin

Summer-sweep

With the last week of July underway

summer's swift sweep/leap is becoming increasingly tangible...

Wild grapevine climbs the fence

Bliss is a tendril caught...

Where summer brims with poetry

Like a fruit-laden plate...

The beach at dusk is grand

A speechless 'my-oh-my'

A wild, wind-wave-tossed wonderland

Of sand and sea and sky...

Wild grapevine climbs the fence

Bliss is a tendril caught

On the barbwire of consequence

Threading freedom of thought

Thought wanders, fancy free

So much to contemplate

Where summer brims with poetry

Like a fruit-laden plate

The fruit of toil is sweet

Cherry, blueberry, peach

Afternoon rolls across bare feet

Like waves across a beach

The beach at dusk is grand

A speechless 'my-oh-my'

A wild, wind-wave-tossed wonderland

Of sand and sea and sky

The sky is its own world

A burgeoning buffet

Glory's declaration unfurled

In blue-blush-swirled, mauve-gray

In ripe yellow and red

Earth echoes heaven's hymn

To overflow the garden bed

As seed and bud-berths brim

...with fresh five-star cuisine

Veggie charcuterie

Hollyhock bistros, pink and green

Beckon to honeybee

...as cricket-balladeers

Kindle tugs, bittersweet

Because we know what disappears

With each rippled tweet-tweet

Sunshine steeps soul and skin

Gold seeps into each pore

Where happiness cannot begin

To tally Delight’s score

While heights of summer pale

Like petals, bright but brief

While flower laden frigates sail

Where death is always chief

...while milestones beck and blur

Sun-sparkles on life's sea

To catch our breath before summer

Becomes a memory

...let's savour without guilt

Without apology

An afternoon spread on a quilt

Beneath a picnic-tree

© Janet Martin

...with fresh five-star cuisine

Veggie charcuterie...

Hollyhock bistros, pink and green

Beckon to honeybee...

A Ride (literally) Down Memory Lane

My third-youngest brother (Lewis) treated us to wagon-ride down Memory lane

(back our sideroad and local backroads)

on Saturday at our annual summer Martin family reunion...

Lots of laughter-filled reminiscing💖

(because most of us sister's childhood memories of wagon rides was to or from stone-picking,

 one of my sister's said 'yes! she would love a wagon ride!

 as long as there are no stones waiting to be picked😂😂)

 

(Dad and Mom, treasuring the flashbacks)

Young people getting a ride to the baseball field 

before we had our turn...

(to respect privacy faces have been blurred)

Where wild flowers still bloom and dust of youth still (almost) flies

Where fields gleam with bent barley-plumes beneath still cloud-strewn skies...

A few of my siblings teased me about a poem percolating as we trundled down dirt roads

and memory-lanes...while in the moment I couldn't imagine what was to come of it,

it was too special an occasion not to at least try to capture!

I tried to reel it in but it turned out longer than (Hubby, ahem,) 

quick readers would likely prefer...😅

We peer with distant gaze back to a long-forsaken world

Where out of Bygone’s haze an echo-mirage is unfurled

As scenes of common stomping grounds revive in hearts and eyes

And resurrect from misted Bounds, dear childhood’s paradise

Of dusty lanes and creeks and strains of weeping willow’s sigh

The thrill of racing to watch or chase freight trains rumbling by

Of dad and mom much younger then, although we didn’t know

Caught in the quick of hunger and molding what soon would show/grow

…while never going hungry, though a dozen mouths to feed

While learning about boundaries and how fruit follows seed/deed

While always loved no matter what we did or didn’t do

(…as we acknowledge the college, we drew dear parents through)

As we revisit places wakened by Past's sudden swell

As we dare to share secrets; laughing, brave enough to tell

As we retrace bare footsteps tripped through pastures; cow-pie rich

Or point to ‘there A Hay Load Tipped’, ‘there Fast Car Found the Ditch’

Where wild flowers still bloom and dust of youth still (almost) flies

Where fields gleam with bent barley-plumes beneath still cloud-strewn skies

Where little trees are big trees now, where yester-children learned

How swift the hand put to the plow will find time’s tables turned

Where correction we would not choose is worth its weight in gold

Where now we walk in well-worn shoes of swiftly growing old

Where mom and dad (still with us) hold a very precious part

In every single (ten of us’s) thankful-prayerful heart

So humbly blessed, we marvel at the patient, loving care

That surely must have tested their most earnest, pleading prayer

Of accidents (but life was spared) of mischief-foolish pranks

Of innocence guarded, work shared, of humble giving thanks

Memories mete a melody where music-shadows wend

As time perfects the harmony of notes that didn’t blend

As treasure-laden vessels, bent, broken, warped, chipped, and scarred

Embrace each tender token composing childhood’s postcard

Where weathering youth’s recompense makes us meeker of mind

Truth’s tethering of consequence and circumstance entwined

With what our precious dad and mom instilled, example-shod

The cornerstone of home-sweet-home; of love and faith in God

© Janet Martin

Motley Masterpiece

Hello again😊💓 

Due to this year's vacation being much quieter than any before,

(due to adult children with other commitments)

 let's get the sentimental tribute out of the way first, okay?

💝💖

I murmured the first line of this poem as we arrived at our cottage last Saturday,

 before/in spite of a much needed and appreciated week of R&R!

Many a pleasant hour can pass flawlessly here

while reminiscing, dreaming and simply enjoying the views/hues...

To every thing there is a season, 

 a time to every purpose under the heaven: Eccles.3:1

There is a hollow in her heart where children used to be

A sacred sense of loss amidst life’s generosity

The tender impact of love’s Once Upon What Disappears

Strikes Something in Her bosom that only a mother hears

Where edges, smoothed by ebb and flow of time’s finessing touch

Perfects a wake of letting go, echo-keepsakes, and such

There is a blade that carves a niche impossible to find

Sun-sparkles siphoned from a splash of seasons left behind

Amass, to meld, with measure of moments-to-memories

A panoramic treasure that only a mother sees

Of happiness soft-startled by the bittersweet divide

Twixt tempests snuffed by nightfall and today’s swift-ebbing tide

There is a hunger that poetic font cannot appease

A heart-shaped hollow of frames filled with fondest memories

Where twilight claims its dauntless prey as moment-sums compose

A Masterpiece of Yesterday only a mother knows

Of what time cannot reimburse and yet cannot estrange

In the clash twixt heaven and earth beneath the hand of change

There is a hollow in her heart too darling to portray

A sweet and sentimental smart where children used to play

While time will weave its winnowing into felled thoroughfares

To leave beneath her skin Something only a mother bears

Where, somehow past’s increase endears an echo-escapade

A motley masterpiece of years that she would never trade

© Janet Martin

See You Soon!

 A Few July Dusk shots...

We never know how near or far we are to Farewell’s severed ties

Or what waits to unfold where gold and blush begins to melt night’s skies

Or who will be the next to leave behind loved ones to grieve death’s wage

Or when the pen that writes life’s book runs out of moment-ink and page

So, wherever we are and with whatever today grants

Here’s hoping we cherish its lease while we still have the chance

And live as if today could be the last lap of life’s race

Remembering that everything is cradled in God’s grace

Remembering to trust and thank Him with hearts meek and true

And make the most of what soon hosts Past's panoramic view 

© Janet Martin

On this note...this is my annual Summer Break week!

See you soon, if the Lord wills💖

James 4:13-15

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, 

spend a year there, carry on business, and make a profit.” 

14You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! 

What is your life? 

You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

15Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord is willing, we will live and do this or that.”

Below, one of my lifelong favorite hymns...

We Are Going Down the Valley

Our Single Boast

 Jeremiah 9:23-24

This is what the LORD says:

 "Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom,

 nor the strong man in his strength, 

nor the wealthy man in his riches.

But let him who boasts boast in this, 

that he understands and knows Me, 

that I am the LORD, who exercises loving devotion, 

justice and righteousness on the earth--

for I delight in these things," declares the LORD.

I Will Boast (only in the cross)

The only goodness we can boast about or claim or laud

Is possible and only, always about and from God

The evil that exists is from the subtil serpent, pride

It mocks the Rock of Christendom; Jesus Christ crucified

…and resurrected. Victorious over death and hell

The only goodness we can boast is God’s great love to tell

Because God, rich in mercy gave His Son to pay sin's debt

God’s goodness is our single boast; oh, may we ne’er forget

© Janet Martin

 Evil people are evil because they do not have/know Jesus.

Evil leaders are evil because they fail to recognize their Leader

and the one who loves them and would forgive them if they repented

and believed on He who gives everlasting life and Heaven

in place of death and hell.

Let's pray that the love of God would become a reality to our godless leaders

and everyone who does not know the truth that sets us free

and pray, lights love's ceaseless fire on the altar of our hearts.