Showing posts with label Saturday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saturday. Show all posts

Saturday, December 9, 2023

Sweet Saturday-morning Skirmish (between Poet and Prudence)



This daily/weekly Saturday morning tango is blissfully
unfamiliar to some, yet, I wouldn't trade it for a world of shiny
'ballroom' floors, as much as I dearly admire and strive to acquire
  brief glossy-floor bliss once in a while!
I try to balance ballads, oops I mean battles
with a bit of both poem and prudence. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿ’–

This beautiful battleground is composed of longing to linger on pages 
of past poets/artists



or tackling present responsibilities like prepping for Christmas!
Today's task; homemade chocolate bars



In the above recipe to clarify amounts;
 approx. 8-9 cups rice krispies, 2 cups peanuts and 11/2 cups coconut.)

Sometimes the battle is a toss-up between
pausing without pressure to percolate in the pure pleasure
of God's poetry in every season...

Whether gray...


...or gold!



...or vacuuming and fussing over delightful details
because Victoria is having friends 
over for a Christmas party this weekend!


Sweet Saturday Skirmish๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’“๐Ÿ’“

Coffee pot beams with Columbian brew; ready/drained with of extra refills



Coffee pot beams with Columbian brew; ready with extra refills
Duty and Dream dance, a skippety-do; Poet and Prudence clash wills
Wonder is waiting with gifts still unfurled, often where we least suppose
Dawn is deflating night’s slumbering world with a sky full of hellos

Tuning spent ages with notes rearranged in compositions brand new
Learning’s lent pages divinely exchanged by He who loves me and you
Fueling reason with thankful reply for mercy’s replenished fount
Every season chock-full of surprises, too prolific to count

…thus, in the matter of work-to-do lists versus perhaps-poetry
Always a Saturday morning untwists two worlds that cannot agree
One (but a guess) a shining specimen of domestic excellence
One, happiness, pressed like wine from a pen never drained of Imminence

….coffee-pot beams with Columbian prose; ready with refills galore
Poet and Prudence tango, nose to nose ‘cross Saturday’s ballroom-floor
Weathering whispers that spar between ink and plain practicality
Untethering silver rivers that wink into….oh, which will it be

© Janet Martin


And hopefully this is my/our daily prayer;
'So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do,
do it all for the glory of God.
1 Cor.10;31

Saturday, August 12, 2023

Simple Summer Saturday Morning Song...

 Happy Summer Saturday!

Summer-soft rustle in lofty leaf-tress...




Summer-soft rustle in lofty leaf-tress
Where breezes tousle, rousing happiness
Round sound of raindrop pitter-patter-plop
Bird-twitter-chatter, horse-clippety-clop
Tinkle of teacup and spoon as they meet
Ominous stumble/rumble of yon thunder-feet
Plush hush, morn lush with shower after shower
Click of keyboard unfolding poem-flower
Tick of the clock before workday implores
Scattering silence with Saturday chores
Clatter of dishes and splatter of mess
Sparkle of laughter, earthly heaven-ness
As Summer-Saturday spills its 'ahoy'
Beautiful bustle and hustle of joy

© Janet Martin

'Clatter of dishes' created some reunion food!

Potato Salad and

Queen Elizabeth Cake!

 

 Psalm 86:8-13

Among the gods there is none like you, Lord;
no deeds can compare with yours.
9 All the nations you have made
will come and worship before you, Lord;
they will bring glory to your name.
10 For you are great and do marvelous deeds;
you alone are God.
11 Teach me your way, Lord,
that I may rely on your faithfulness;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name.
12 I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;
I will glorify your name forever.
13 For great is your love toward me;
you have delivered me from the depths,
from the realm of the dead.

Saturday, September 25, 2021

To Frame a Memory...




Today is perfect cup-o'-java-joy-bottomless-refill weather!


Part of the reason I spent this morning's hours outdoors 
was the promise of a rain-song afternoon!




I began painting another poem this morning, 
then got distracted by duty and beauty
While along came this poem to
 interrupt the previous one...
'composed' by the last 24 hours of life!
A peek onto a poet's 'colour-palette' ๐Ÿ˜Š

If I could I would frame it;
that moment when she and I
stood spellbound by an egret
beneath autumn's brooding sky

That cozy fall contentment
with a coffee-pot between
That season of enchantment;
as bronze seeped through summer green

That solace of the woodland
and its shadow-dappled path
Its palace built with remnants
of butterfly aftermath

The orchard that not long ago
was wreathed in white and pink
Lanes decked in perfumed petal snow
Where now red apples wink

Dawn, as it drew ajar
windows of opportunity
Dusk, as it pinned a star
on pages of fresh history

September's cinnamon-kissed sweeps
we tasted with our eyes
The playful puppy as it leapt
through laughter's paradise

Saturday pitter-patter fueled
by rain-symphony 
Where ink and order dueled
(they will never quite agree)

My mother in her kerchief, warm
against fall's chill embrace
Love, evoking a perfect storm
*for joys so un-commonplace

Wonder, in all its rapture
never snared by brush or pen
I wish that I could capture it
to touch and taste again

...and then I smile, and then I say
Thank God for poetry
A poem is the perfect way
To frame a memory

Janet Martin

* a mother's kerchief-framed
most-beloved-of-all-faces
is anything but commonplace 
so I edited that sentence๐Ÿ’–
Another un-commonplace joy today
is my parent's 58th wedding anniversary!



Saturday, June 27, 2020

Suddenly It Is Saturday


A lot of weathered hopes will be rolled forward
to be repeated this coming week, Lord willing
especially as we pray for those in and beside sick-beds!




Between the folds of gold and gray
Another week is rolled away
With ups and downs and grins and frowns
Suddenly it is Saturday

The bloom that popped the bud last week
Has dropped her petal on earth’s cheek
Each hour felled and freed to meld
With what we held but could not keep

Ho, ho, Time’s rough-and-tumble pace
Would be a rat-race, (but for grace)
So on we press with humble ‘yes’
Prayer in the heart, smile on the face

While mile on mile through come-what-may
With smiles we smile and prayers we pray
With hope and trust, midst may and must
Suddenly it is Saturday

The dust that settles at our feet
Where want and wonderment compete
Arrange with ease the memories
Of love’s mementos, bittersweet

Dear Lord, so rich in mercy, guide
Until we cross this time tossed-tide
That files its ways through Saturdays
Until we reach The Other Side

© Janet Martin

 ...And lead us not into temptation, 
but deliver us from the evil one.'
Matt.6:13





Saturday, January 19, 2019

Sweet Saturday


 Saturday is the only Linger-longer morning of the week  (if I so choose)
for Muse is always torn between the tug of out-doors and household chores
 Goot guplanned is holva Kshafft is lightly translated to A good plan is half work done ๐Ÿ˜‰

Dear Saturday,
You roll your gritty carpet to the throne of thrift and thought
And I must choose whether to muse or grab a broom and mop
You toss a lure of second coffees past lists of to-do
And I must choose whether to linger longer or 'hop-to'
You tease the ease of moments with whispers half-blessed, half-cursed
For I must choose whether to work or write a poem first

© Janet Martin


Saturday, October 20, 2018

I Could Lick Her Floors!


Last Saturday night we celebrated my brother-in-law's 50th birthday by going out for dinner.
For dessert we were invited to his brother's house for cake and ice-cream.
Whenever we go there I can't help but marvel at how CLEAN their home is...
I could lick her floors and not feel one bit traumatized๐Ÿ˜‹
It motivates me to take the time to try and get at least a little sparkle-ping into my own home.
(I should visit her house once a month just for inspiration!)
She lives a full, busy, helpful life and I admire her, however she does it!
So after a little elbow grease etc. tonight my house feels like it could muster a little ping-shine too!
I will however, NOT be licking the floors๐Ÿ˜

No matter what it is...

We can think it
Plan it
Say it
Walk a shut-eye stroll right through it
But we cannot
change this
plain fact...
Nothing takes the place of Do It!

© Janet Martin

Ah, Saturday Morning!


When Jim called this morning he wondered if I’m writing
 (knowing that my morning writing sched. is sort of a thing of the past right now). 
I told him not yet because there are so many other things that need doing too…
this gave me the inspiration for a quickie while I enjoy a late first cup o’ coffee!




Ah, Saturday morning tug of heart
Pulls us apart twixt Want and Must
A tableau filled with common art
So much to see, so much to dust
So much to snare from thoroughfares
Of earth abroad and house right here
Where home-sweet-home is a nightmare
Without the care of Mother Dear

Ah, Saturday morning tug of will
Duty’s demand is strict and plain
But holds a clean-shiny-floor thrill
Those good excuses cannot gain
It knows that satisfaction waits
In simple swish-polish-scrub-fold
Hep-hep-heave-ho, for soon noon’s gates
Are shadow-barred and starred with gold

Ah, Saturday morning tug of Time
A war twixt dish-soap suds and ink
So much to love, so much to rhyme
So much Slow Second Cup to drink
So much to choose, so much to Muse
Of sky-high blues, dew-hues dirt-cursed
Where all my finger-printed views
Insist I think I should clean first

…ah, Saturday morning tug of books
And pens, and hiking boots and bikes
Where autumn leaf-boat dappled brooks
Lure us to look long, if one likes
Ah, Saturday morning tug of hand
Of cloths and pails and brooms and mops
Where nothing else is quite as grand
If mother’s sweep-scrub-polish stops

© Janet Martin

Ugh! said Victoria after I read her this poem before posting it. 
I hate the way this sounds...
(In case you've noticed, cleaning is NOT Victoria's first love๐Ÿ˜Š)