Monday, November 30, 2015

For Lucy...L.M.Montgomery, because as long as there are Annes and Emilys we will never grow fully old;-)



 o-o-o-o-o! I wonder what this google-doodle is for, I said to Victoria when I turned on the computer this morning. Victoria laughed at my squeal of delight:)

 

In spite of, or because of much hardship in Lucy Maud Montgomery's personal life she left behind much joy for generations to come,
 to dream and delight in.
Thank-you, Lucy



For winsome worlds you let to page
Of girls, for girls, from age to age
To shed a little tear, to laugh
As we traverse a paragraph
Becoming Anne, Pat, Emily
We walk a world of poetry
Where once upon a time you took
A dream and made a storybook
To read on summer-winter’s eve
To revel in the make-believe
Of words woven into the art
Of being ever young at heart
…and mothers become girls a while
Or Marilla, touched by a child
-ish vision of faith undeterred
Then captured by the will of word
To be a happy hand-me-down
For girls never quite fully-grown

© Janet Martin 

Here are some of the books I own, written by her...
It's true, what C.S. Lewis said,




“No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally (and often far more) worth reading at the age of fifty.”
— C.S. Lewis
so, 
have you read any of her books lately?

One More Day...





This portion that we hold
Of time’s unfolding verve
Is like a splash of moment-gold
To choose the God we serve

This gift from God to man
Sifting through yonder cloud
Is but an ephemeral span
Before we give account

Thus in our come and go
As one more day is lent
We should remember who we owe
Its daily dividend

This buttering of ‘bread’
Its begging break-and-eat
Will prove the offering we have
To lay before His feet

With utter awe then we
Ought to approach His grace
For no one knows the day when we
Will meet Him face to face

...where ‘one more day’ is like
A thousand years to He
Who breaks the sky with morning light
Before eternity

© Janet Martin



  ...then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve,

Sunday, November 29, 2015

November-frost Dawn




(a photo does not glisten so it cannot capture the full glory)

 O worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness: fear before him, all the earth.
. Ps.96:9

Dawn rolls from gates of gold; it tolls from belfries of the sky
Mankind is grandly humbled by Time’s virgin filigree
Where barren countryside is clothed in colors of a bride
And we are dumb-struck sailors on its silver diamond-sea

The glory of the Lord descends, befriends the blade of grass
Each lowly sprig a princess and each gnarly twig a king
Spectators pause, uncertain in earth’s hoary house of glass
Such lower class in this vault of Unstoppered Glistening

God’s grace erases darkness; clothes this thoroughfare of dirt
In vesture fit for angels; He grants glimpses of Yon Shore
In Portraits of Redemption, white as snow He crowns Time’s hurt
Man bears witness to heaven-ness and pursues it once more

© Janet Martin

Wishing you a worship-full day.
This morning it seemed as if all creation joined in this song of praise...

 


Saturday, November 28, 2015

Some Things Never Change



pic later...

Sometimes life’s grit and grin
Where joy and grief ally
Astounds our thought with what is not
As mystic veils begin to thin
 A grail of ashes poured within
Like tinder to a sigh

Somewhere we start to see
How swift seasons deplete
Sunset, sunrise, hellos, good-byes
Startle with sudden clarity
This Thing we call Mortality
Its sorrow bittersweet

‘Someday’ slips through the air
Its ‘When’ and ‘Where’ disguised
As Work and Play in The Today
That comes fully equipped with care
Stripping a dripping thoroughfare
That leaves us so surprised

© Janet Martin

While I was helping Emily paint this week I listened to all her 'someday' plans;-) 
What a vast threshold is youth, still un-surprised.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Dealing With Leftovers...in Life

PAD Challenge day 27: For today’s prompt, write a leftovers poem.

Today is for looking after leftovers! 
Because I spent most days this week at my daughter's house painting, I feel bombarded by leftovers this morning...leftover laundry, leftover tea, leftover clutter, clutter, clutter of everyday life...
I can't help wishing there was a bit of left-over turkey;-)
Happy Thanks-Giving Day (no, not belated) because we ought to give thanks every day!




We work with what remains of what we had
The lurking Imminence of what will be
Does not deter from our touch the thread
That weaves, with what we have, a memory
Yesterday’s leftovers begin Today
My, my, how often we forget this truth
How some things never really go away
Cause and effect is fearless and uncouth
…and though the night washes the day with stars
It does not sever it from morrow’s bars

We work with what remains of what we held
This common bond binds all humanity
How soft and subtle supple moments meld
What ‘once we held’ into a legacy
Ah, pray that what we leave behind is kind
Then morning will not seem so destitute
If we keep this one paradox in mind
We cannot trade our portion of past's fruit
Time’s forward-flow is like a farmer’s field
Where what we sow will surely bear its yield

We work with what remains, but this firm rod
Is not a curse; morning’s unmarred refrain
Is like a mercy-gift from gracious God
And it is not too late to try again
The leftovers imposed upon our gaze
Can be transformed; this ephemeral string
Is not bound to misfortune’s ruthless ways
But is that Thing of Hope to which we cling
We work with what remains and as what we do
The grace of God will guide and love us through

© Janet Martin