You Are My Poem

 

 ...from a mother to her daughters.

This poem does NOT exclude sons:)

You are my poem

Of laughter and longing

Of having and holding

And slow letting go

You are my poem of

Learning and teaching

Of bowing and reaching

Of lingering…oh!

You are my poem of

Hunger and hurting

And heart overflowing

With more-than-enough

You are my poem

Of precious existence

Wrapped up in one 

little 

word 

called

Love

© Janet Martin

 

We Can Do It!

How will I do it?! one of ours wondered as she anxiously peered into The Future.

"My dear, you'll do it the way people have been doing it since the beginning...one day at a Time!"

Sometimes, in the middle of the muddle, when we are feeling a little discouraged

 someone calls needing words of encouragement 
 and suddenly, through our words to them we are reminded and encouraged!

Thank-you, God

...and thank-you for little teachers who remind us to live in the moment!

Life is not a here-you-go, lump-sum deal

Or 'luck of the draw' nor  'spin of the wheel'

No, life is a day-by-day thoroughfare

Ever beneath a faithful  Father's care

We ought not fret about what we can't know

Life is a daily by-God's-grace-we-go

When we get There in life's day-by-day stride

Then oh, my dear, faithful God will provide

Life, praise the Lord is not a 'how can I?'

It is a 'we-deal', God-with-us, oh my,

Step-by-step-day-by-day, come-what-may-span

With God to lead the way, thereby We can

Love, Mom

aka Janet Martin

 Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding; 
 In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct your paths.

Prov.3:5-6 

The Best There Is To Do

Ho-hum, I said under my breath this morning as I viewed a mental mountain.

'What did you say?' asked Matt, heading out the door to work with fresh-made lunch, fresh coffee and fresh ice-water.

'Oh, I just said ho-hum' I replied...

The Best There Is To Do wears humble threads of spoil and toil

Ho-hum, ho-hum we say as we purview its Want displayed

And sometimes we are almost overwhelmed with mundane moil

Therefore we ought not to pursue it until we have prayed

The Best There Is To Do is living proof that we are blessed

Pity the one who has no one to multiply life’s care

For though sometimes the weight of it seems an endurance test

Surely the Lord will grant us strength if we seek Him in prayer

If we have mouths to feed and means with which to earn our bread

If we have hands to touch and hold The Much of much ado

Then it behooves us, in each day to humbly bow the head

And thank God for the gift that gives The Best There Is To Do

© Janet Martin

Actually, in a bit of reconsideration of the last stanza, it behooves us to bow our heads and give thanks. period. there are no 'ifs' in thanking God. 

 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.

Ps. 107:1

Happy Blessed Friday. 

I'm off to rearrange some of the above photos;-)

With love and prayers 

for all of our poetry wainting (waiting/wanting) to be written,

Janet~

The Best There Is (For Now)

The Best There Is breaks through the mist and wakes the air with gold

Without a look askance Patience refurbishes our hold

And while we struggle on toward the climax of this Climb

The Best There Is (for now) unravels seasons into Time

The outcome of The Best There Is (for now) is veiled in hours

Its substance lights time’s temp’ral flare and annihilates flowers

Though victory is certain for the one who has believed

On this side of The Curtain oft, the heart is vexed and grieved

We cannot bypass misfortune; oh, we would if we could

The Best There Is (for now) insists upon its honing good

And offers, for our pain and pleasure, views in sundry hue

Ah, though hurt metes its measure; there is joy and laughter too

We, shod with ignorance that knowledge cannot supersede

Are often quite breath-taken with the colors of our need

As, poised upon a mystic brink of who-what-when-where-how

We, by God’s grace embark upon The Best There Is (for now)

© Janet Martin

Mere Glimpses

Oh Lord,

For the generous education of Creation

We are most humbly glad

The earth and its fullness, a celebration

Of the best teacher we have had

The Heaven’s

Declare your unfathomable handiwork

What is man, beneath its stars?

But the student of Your poetry, oh Lord

…mere glimpses of who You are

© Janet Martin

Lucky Girl...(or but-by-the-grace-of-God-girl)

The reason I like to try to write to prompts is because 'writing to order' can be quite a challenge. Yesterday's Poetic Bloomings prompt was called Potluck. 

Choose any form we enjoy and write about luck.

Walt (from Poetic Bloomings) called me Lucky Girl yesterday, so I typed the title

And hoped he was right;-)

Better late than never…

 I find it utterly astounding how a lawn, completely dead-seeming can turn lush and green after a few

drenching rains...it's a great metaphor of what happens as we respond to the touch of God.

Lucky Girl

Across the return of spring-like green, surreal

After the laughter of warm August rain

The poet gazes and spins thought’s word-wheel

Willing the whisper of Muse to her brain

Sweet summer morning, unravel a poem

Revive her blight-stricken, heat-smitten mind

Blind her to the kinder duties of home

Where sometimes Poem is so hard to find

Grant this Canuck a bit of Irish luck

Charm Time’s fresh offspring with iambic smile

Humor her hunger with rhymes that don’t suck

Let her be a Lucky Girl for a while

© Janet Martin

(this poem is written strictly for the prompt because I prefer the word grace. 

Luck is such a hopeless word) 

Form: Quatrain 

Poetry Definition of Quatrain

A stanza or poem consisting of four lines. In the basic form, Lines 2 and 4 must rhyme while having a similar number of syllables.