Thursday, November 27, 2014

We Thank You, Lord (A Thanksgiving Song)



For frost-dusted furrow where harvest is gleaned
For eager-eyed children where summer is weaned
For leaf-swaddled havens of woodland and dell
Soft-kissed into cradles where autumn-song fell
For bins filled with mercy where spilled seed is stored
For these tender blessings we thank You, Lord

For food, friends and family, freedom and faith
For home, health and hope of heaven after death
For happiness not dependent on this world
For sunrise and sunset steadfastly unfurled
For bread on the table and Bread from Your Word
For these gracious blessings we thank You, Lord

For little boy noise and little girl giggles,
For platters of pancakes and spaghetti squiggles
For fire in the fireplace and coffee-table clutter
For cheese, please. Crackers and peanut butter
For promise of springtime as winter’s reward
For these precious blessings we thank You, Lord

We thank You Lord, for your bountiful Hand
For rain-sun compassion to favor the land
For music of earth in four-seasons decreed
For measureless treasure in every seed
For Your faithful Presence to comfort and gird
We bow before You and thank you, Lord

© Janet Martin


 Somehow American Thanksgiving is contagious;) I'm especially thankful the farmers were able to harvest a little more crops in the last 2 days.

Poem-threads





The threads of a poem spiral from a loom
As freely to fingers of dish-cloth and broom
As to he who ponders on palettes of silk
The why and the wherefore of breath-to-breath ilk

We never know what colors may unfurl
Welkin of willow, pink laughter of girl
Dapple of sunbeam or purple of mist
Dusk as it tiptoes in, moody-blue kissed

This is not any old day that we hold
This is a once-in-a-lifetime gray-gold
This is a stanza, when it disappears
We cannot alter with ten-thousand tears

Soft through our bearing the poem of life
Tempers the hand with the pen, joy and strife
Render their portions of hold and let go
Humble words tumble like ink-gilded snow

…weaving from threads as they slither and slip
Heavy with honey and gall through our grip
Pictures to keep as Time torments our grasp
Changing and changing the colors we clasp

© Janet Martin


Inhale, Exhale... Gratitude



 PAD challenge day 27:For today’s prompt, write an appreciative poem.

The blanket of the sky was spread
Like midnight velvet overhead
Before silk silver softly swept
Across a lea where houses slept
Then, like brass buttons on its coat
The lights came on as they awoke

The stretch and yawn of human race
Sets foot upon time's fresh-spun grace
As coffee-flavored undertows
And breakfast chatter gently flows
Up to a throne where Mercy pleads
On the behalf of mortal needs

This vapor thread twixt life and death
Extends, for our very breath
Is God-granted; inhale, exhale
We, by a love that will not fail
Set sail upon earth's sea of sod
And humbly whisper, thank-you God

Janet~

Happy Thanksgiving to our American friends!

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Oh, Sometimes to Fully Feel you...





Oh, sometimes to fully feel you
I write you down
Trace afternoon for your color
Burgundy, gold, chestnut brown
For often you slip from my fingers
Before our dance is through
So I write you down, my precious
To remember you

I pluck the petal that brushes
The cheek ere it vagrantly slips
Into the silver forever
Of Past’s irretrievable crypts
Or else in the rush of your rain-song
I’ll snatch a tear from your eye
And press it into word pictures
Where dark is stealing the sky

I caught a feather of snowflake
Before it dissolved into naught
Etching your six-point perfection
Into meandering jot
You never scream for attention
Maybe that is why I love you
And feel compelled to frame pieces
Dripping and slipping from view

Eternal transience, ah moment
Moving across my today
Stripping swift years of its valor
While filling a life with your fray
Oh, sometimes to fully feel you
I grasp your ephemeral gown
And as you slide soft through my fingers
I linger and write you down

© Janet Martin

Perfect Fit






Sometimes, if we’re uncertain
As to how we fit God’s plan
Then all that each of us can do
Is this; the best we can

Right where we are and who we are
Is all that will attest
To what we did with what we had
And if we did our best

So if life’s Puzzle frazzles
And perplexes us a bit
If we commit to give our best
Our piece is sure to fit

...so pull that bitty rake
and push that bitty plow
Our legacy depends on what
we do with bitty now

© Janet Martin

 And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; Col.3:23

Where Change Begins





We cannot change from the outside in
The heart is where true change begins

Though law may force the hand and such
The heart no scripted law can touch

…where edict of rules oft estrange
The heart to rudiments of change

For only love the heart can move
Yet, who can force a heart to love?

Love and belief; oh who can bend
The matrix of the heart, my friend?

Ah, there is One; a still small voice
Beckons; response is our choice

Yet, in this choice the crux of change
And all that follows it remains

For God is love; love does not force
The heart that yields in true remorse

Then, in the yielding change can start
For only Love can change the heart

© Janet Martin

One of the pastors interviewed yesterday in Ferguson Missouri reminded us that all the social programs in the world cannot change the heart where true change begins. Only Jesus can change the heart; the same Jesus that shed His blood for our sins. He died to set us free!