Monday, June 5, 2017

Ever Ebbing As It Flows...



And he shewed me a pure river of water of life,
clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.
In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
Rev.22:1-2 



Time’s tide is ever ebbing as it flows toward a shore
That holds the tree of life where crystal, living waters pour
The healing of earth’s nations waits, not in some earthly tome
But in the swinging wide of Heaven’s gates and ‘welcome home’

Be not dismayed when prophecies unfold age-old decree
Before the Lord of lords returns these things must come to be
Take comfort then, dear fellow-friend, in what we know for sure
In spite of fear’s foreshadowing, God’s promises endure

The best is yet to come but only for those who believe
Who repent of their sin and therein redemption receive
Then, though often we tremble at the thought of the Unknown
We turn our eyes to Living Hope proceeding from God’s throne

Ah, agony of sorrow as we mourn man’s unbelief
God is not mocked; Alpha, Omega, Rock of Ages, Chief
This day of grace He grants and plants in every breath exhaled
Is ever ebbing as it flows toward His face unveiled

© Janet Martin


Sunday, June 4, 2017

No Matter Where We Look...





It trembles in green leaf aloft
In petals, perfume-skinned
It wafts in salutations soft
As whispers on the wind


It spills across the still of dusk
From skeins of silken gold
It spurs the seed that stirs the dust
With harvest’s hidden hold


In pearl of dew and furl of dark
On heavens endless sweep
Its morning does not miss its mark
Nor find its Bard asleep


It spirals in a star of snow
And chuckles in a brook
It trembles where bloom-banners blow
Or nod in wooded nook

It draws the eye to where it rolls
In oceanic wave
With solemn sanction it cajoles
The lilies on a grave


With flourish of a phantom pen
It fills the furrowed field
It nourishes the roar of men
With mercy-mentored yield


No matter where we look we see
On sky or sea or sod
Its kind familiarity
...the signature of God

© Janet Martin

 He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.
Job 9:8

Plunder-Proof



 God gives and gives and gives to man
In spite of what we earn
Sometimes it does us well to scan
What we give in return



Mankind for all our taste and touch
No matter how we live
Ought learn, no one can love too much
Or ever over-give

Though moderation is the key
To happiness and health
The more we love and give, ah we
Increase a hidden wealth

…where joy will overflow the trove
Of humble heart with praise
For how we give is how we love
The One who grants our days

© Janet Martin

 Proverbs 11:25
The generous man will be prosperous, And he who waters will himself be watered.


2 Corinthians 8:12
For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, 
not according to what he does not have.

Friday, June 2, 2017

Sole Goal

"If you're wearing yellow you may go!" shouted the leader.
Two delighted girls instantly found yellow on their summer tops and 'went'.
However, no amount of pleading could persuade the leader that orange counted as yellow,
no matter how much little Luke insisted that 'it's almost yellow!'

Someday, if we have not followed the 'rules' God clearly laid out for this earthly challenge
there will be no exceptions made at the Gates of Heaven when we plead with 'almost'!
Let's make our 'calling and election sure' before it is too late because there is no changing the rules, ever.
There is One Way into Heaven; Jesus. His shed blood is our ransom and only if we believe in Him will we be saved!


  


A wise man makes his soul-goal his sole goal

Ah, kindly Keeper of each soul
Ah, love immaculate
Let us not blindly miss The Goal
Because we chose to wait

To delay is a deadly vice
Forbid that we fall prey
To Things that may seem safe and nice
But lead the heart astray

Death is not all that it appears
Beyond its silent pose
Begins a life not marked by years
Where soul of mortal goes

And there, forever-evermore
The Soul of man will be
Time’s day of grace is but a door
Into eternity

© Janet Martin

The unfolding of your words gives light;
it gives understanding to the simple.
 Ps.119:130
 


Thursday, June 1, 2017

Invocation to June







Come, sweet deliverer of days
That dawn early and linger late
You stir the soul with wholesome praise
For mercies fragrant, flower-shaped
And on a page of greenest phrase
Make common poets laureates

Come, pretty plot of paradise
Rife with new life drawn from staid dust
Where brooks are garnished with soft sighs
Of yellow stars and dreamer’s lust
And every day is like a prize
Pink-purple-gold trophies of trust

Come, season-divined doggerel
Thy poetry is like a prayer
In temples framed by hill and dell
With roof of sky and walls of air
Where testaments of heaven swell
From earthy founts of petal-fare

Come, tender splendor of a tune
Strummed by minstrels of rain and rose
Where choristers of nature croon
The hymns that leaf-lyrists compose
Come, formless pantheon called June
Praise God from whom thy merit flows

© Janet Martin

Sincere apologies to the first no. of readers to this poem, posted before proper proof-reading, with half-writ lines and word repetition, just to name a few of the oopsies corrected!