Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Memento




This morning summer climbed my porch like a yellow cat, warm and lazy...

Poetic Blooms prompt: day 26: metaphors and similes

Summer morning climbs over the hill
To sit on my porch like a yellow cat
Licking its paws
Before it slips through the underbrush
To become part of
The World That Was

Little girl laughs; Leaps, limber and lithe
Through a blue and gold afternoon of
Summer art
Before she slips from ribbons and curls
Scattering mementos that mother folds
And holds in her heart

Summer dusk fills its melting pot
With the rise and fall of Time’s
Latest foray
Before it too falls prey to the reaching way
Of midnight's melding, the shaky, black gelding
Stands, then gallops away

© Janet Martin



Creed For All



So we rebuilt the wall till all of it reached half its height, for the people worked with all their heart.
Neh.4:6



 Busy, busy days...the harvest is ripe!
We work, knowing it is not for naught...


We each were born to do our part
Then, pray we work with all our heart
Not to achieve the praise of man
But to give God the best we can
For man is nothing without He
Who grants His grace and sympathy
So, if we strive to live our days
For Him, He also gets the praise

© Janet Martin

 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters,
Col.3:23

Summer Leaves Weave Poetry






From the eaves of former days
Shimmer leaves of poetry
Time is restless and its gaze
Utters changes with changeless ease
Tick and tock, the hours lock
Metered mist of moment-dross
Gleaning fortunes from the clock
Sealing vaults with treasured loss


While Time’s golden prime is lent
To earth’s field and flowered lanes
While the leafy tree is bent
Until autumn weans its strains
While we fight old-fashioned wars
With weapons of new-born dreams
While nature and mortal spars
And in the end, nature wins



...Turning eaves of green to gold
Binding sheaves of memory
While we learn how to grow old
Summer leaves weave poetry
Summer weaves leaf-poetry

© Janet Martin


Monday, July 25, 2016

Home For Me...Nostalgia-Happenings:)






Home for me will gleam where wheat fields
Teem with rippling harvest-gold
Maple-tree umbrellas wielding
Anthems as summers unfold

Home for me will gild thought’s rafter
With laughter of girl and boy
Melodies that ring long after
They have spent sweet childhood joy

Home for me is full of kitchen
Pray no lichen-covered gate
Rusts upon unopened hinges
Where dinner is never late

Home for me is a decanter
Pouring banter, bloom-entwined
Books and brooks and nooks transplanted
To the landscape of the mind

Home for me will be a sunrise
Unveiling familiar hills
Lost at night to the blue gath’ring
Where dusk’s leaning shadow spills

Home for me will be a garden
Etched like twilight’s silhouette
Where the front-yard is a postcard
Echoing with summer-set

© Janet Martin



Right now two little boys (supposedly ‘resting’)are whispering and giggling in couch-cushion caves they made…

dinner needs to be cleared,

beans need to be ended, cut, blanched, etc.

weeds need to be weeded, 

...but I am suddenly drawn to a dead-stop, dumb-struck by the stilly song of summer sifting through my senses epitomizing summer-home melodies!

Thereby We Go





If we would count our failures, oh
How could we bear its dread dismay?
God’s grace whereby we humbly go
Forgives and grants us a new day

If we could see the debt we owed
And God forgave; all want would cease
God’s grace, whereby we humbly go
Forgives, and grants us hope and peace

Earth’s joy is fleeting, this we know
The best it offers fades like mist
God’s grace whereby we humbly go
Forgives in dawn-kissed amethyst

If we could catch one glimpse of Heav’n
Fear would falter and faith would reign
God’s grace, whereby we are forgiv’n
Waits to let Heaven make it plain

© Janet Martin



 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them--yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.

1 Cor.15:10