On Living Life to the Max

Today's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer @ Writer's Digest;

For today's prompt, write a maximum poem...

We never know what a day will bring

so let's live each one to the max!

 These past few evenings have been spent

 in the barn next door...

It reminded me of a song from my youth..

esp. this line

'it's nice to think about it, maybe even visit,

but I wonder, could I live there anymore'.

because

Farming is very serious business these days,

and not for the faint of heart.

Charley Pride -- Wonder Could I Live There Anymore

let's live life to

its precious max,

work hard, love kindly,

run, relax

push, pull, pray, play

smile, sing, give thanks

make the most of

spring-green creek banks 

pick buttercups

plant seeds, sip tea

engage in

real-time poetry 

aware of the

far-reaching way

of deeds we do 

and words we say

where finding joy

is no secret 

the more we give

the more we get

where happiness

holds out its key

...to make the most

of you and me

so, let's live life

to its lent max

the same up front

as behind backs

© Janet Martin

Col.3:23

And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men,

Morn's Melody of Mercy Pours

It's been a solemn week,

after a tragedy mentioned HERE and HERE

as well as another neighboring farm mishap,

 bringing two next door neighbors together

in rooms side by side

in a hospital over an hour away!

I cannot divulge the details of some very anguishing moments

juxtaposed with some very awesome ones 

only a comforting God could orchestrate!

Isa. 43:1-2

Now this is what the LORD says—

He who created you, O Jacob,

and He who formed you, O Israel:

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by your name; you are Mine!

2When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you go through the rivers,

they will not overwhelm you...

A melody of mercy pours in strains of blush and blue

Hope beckons us to bow before the Lord and trust anew...

Morn's melody of mercy pours in strains of blush and blue

Hope beckons us to bow before the Lord and trust anew

Remembering that He who grants the onus of today

Is bigger than the circumstance that soon passes away

Heaven and earth are in the faithful, loving care of He

Who authors birth; all life exists by His authority

Thus, we are not our own; we do not orchestrate time’s sands

Nor arrange Today’s stepping stone, God cradles in His hands

With every joy, a grief is born/borne; life's bloom soon bears death’s due/dew

And oft the human heart is torn as sorrow runs it through

With higher thoughts and ways of He whose love perfects command

Who hears the praise and pleas of we who cannot understand

Day turns to night; night turns to day; Time’s tugboat nears the goal

Where dust will claim Frame’s petal-fray and God reclaims the Soul

Behold! morn's blush-blue medleys poured from founts where mercies brim

Hope beckons us to bow before the Lord and trust in Him

He will not fail through love’s travail that life is bound to bring

He hoists, within the howling gale the shadow of His wing

And pleads to all ‘come unto Me’; the cares that bear grief’s groan

Are but a glimpse of Calvary ere death was overthrown

A melody of mercy pours from love that knows no bounds

Faith feels its way between two shores where circumstance confounds

But cannot curb the ocean of God's compassion and grace

To deepen our devotion till we see Him face to face

© Janet Martin

With every joy, a grief is born; the bloom soon bears death’s due/dew...

Psalm 36:7
How precious is Your loving devotion, O God, 

that the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings!

Ps.145:13

The Lord is trustworthy in all he promises
    and faithful in all he does.[c]

Gladness (in spite of sadness)

Today's prompt for poem-a-day from Robert Lee Brewer offers endless options!!

For today's prompt, pick an emotion, 

make it the title of your poem, 

and write your poem.

I have received so many kind words, 

messages, hug and heart emojis,

and prayers and I thank you all!

In spite of sadness mentioned HERE

there is gladness!

Grief keens awareness

 and renewed gladness for life's simple blessings, doesn't it?

In the midst of so much taken, always still so much remains 

Kindness and compassion waken where trouble and sorrow pains 

Time is ever but a Lender; have-and-hold, a sacred lease  

Gratitude, Time's humble Spender; Gladness is its masterpiece 

Gladness finds a tender foothold in hugs, kind words, tears and prayers

Where, in grief would be hope's threshold without these and God who cares?  

How could we survive joy's sorrow? Hark, sweet words of old proclaim,

'Yesterday, today, tomorrow, Jesus Christ remains the same'

Goodness and mercy still follow; Gladness grips the Shepherd's staff 

Without Him hope would ring hollow; love would forget how to laugh

Death's shadow would not release us; but God changes everything 

Gladness shouts the name of Jesus; through Him, Death has lost its sting  

© Janet Martin

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd;

I shall not [a]want.

2 He makes me to lie down in [b]green pastures;

He leads me beside the [c]still waters.

3 He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup runs over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will [d]dwell in the house of the Lord

[e]Forever.

Sadness

Today's prompt for poem-a-day from Robert Lee Brewer offers endless options!!

For today's prompt, pick an emotion, 

make it the title of your poem, 

and write your poem.

My Faith Looks Up To Thee

 It bleeds from my eyes

How it aches in my soul

It authors heart-cries

Where death leaves a large hole 

It bids me to fly

To the hills of God's Word

And like David, cry

'My help comes from the Lord'

© Janet Martin

Ps.121:1-2

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

 My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

I Need Thee Every Hour

It Would Be Easy To Despair...or Hope's Great Counterclaim

Today's poem prompt from Robert Lee Brewer:

For today's prompt, write a pessimistic poem.

***

I shared the verse below on yesterday's post HERE

I am sharing it again today because it felt

like a divine reminder when I needed it most!

Psalm 116:13

I will lift up the cup of salvation

and call on the name of the Lord.

(read the whole glorious chapter HERE)

Sometimes I forget...

The cup of salvation and the name of the Lord

supply every need!

Hallelujah and thank-you, dear Savior!

Sometimes I forget, happiness in this world

is not the end goal!

(But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness;

 and all these things shall be added unto you-Matt.6:33)

(dear readers, not from this community.

I am mourning the loss of a neighbour and friend,

a mother to three children, very dear to my heart

who used to be in my childcare,

and who still visit on a let's-go-for-a-walk-to-Janet-whim💓

bearing gifts of farm fresh eggs, cheese, fresh cookies, etc.

and always so much love.)

In times of tragedy it could be easy to lose heart,

but through Christ, we have Hope's great counterclaim to despair!

Sharing a few recent YouTube uploads to cheer us on

I Set My Hope on Jesus

 

God of Every Grace

All Things-Sovereign Grace Music

It would be easy to despair

To be crushed beneath weight of care

Where the world at large has gone mad

Testing the quests that make us glad

It would be easy to lose sight

Of faith's position of delight

If we fixate on what we see

Of suffering's great misery

It would be easy to fall prey

To gloom and doom's cheerless dismay

It seems like Satan's bag of tricks

Has left a world no one can fix 

It would be easy to believe

The one whose hate aims to deceive

To plant a seed of doubt, to lure

Us from God's promises secure 

It would be easy to lose heart

As we watch the world fall apart

Because of the rejection of

God's Cornerstone of Truth and Love

It would be easy to give in

Crushed by consequences of sin

Without salvation's brimming cup

It would be easy to give up

...ah, here we find Hope's Deathless Rose

Salvation's cup still overflows

Redemption's flood still runs between

The part we see and the Unseen 

For this is not the Destiny

This is The Joy that Waits To Be

Lift up your eyes, behold the Yet

That we are so prone to forget

Remember, God is good and kind

He opens eyes, otherwise blind

Do not lose heart, do not despair

Time, but the path we pave/brave with prayer

© Janet Martin

2 Pet. 1:3-4

His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness 

through the knowledge of Him who called us by His owna glory and excellence.

  4Through these He has given us His precious and magnificent promises, 

so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature,

 now that you have escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.

Matthew 5:11-12

Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you,

 and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. 

12 Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, 

for great is your reward in heaven, 

for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Ps.122:1

I was glad when they said to me,

“Let us go into the house of the LORD.”

John 15:9-11

As the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you. 

Remain in My love.

10If you keep My commandments, you will remain in My love, 

just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and remain in His love.

  11I have told you these things so that My joy may be in you 

and your joy may be complete.

Sometimes the Past Feels Like a Dream...

Psalm 116:13

I will lift up the cup of salvation

and call on the name of the Lord.

(read the whole glorious chapter HERE)

The pink-bud blaze

before first-leaf green haze...

Sometimes the past feels like a dream or scenes an artist drew

Its measure of moments like mist of seasons spilled and spent

Like Aprils, marbled into blurs of green, gold, gray and blue

Or like a book we read but could not keep, a volume lent

The joys of life teach us to sing, its griefs teach us to pray

To lift salvation’s cup and call upon the name of God

The older that I get the more I attend to Today

Before its dust settles in Past’s impenetrable sod

Sometimes the panoramas of What Once Was steals my breath

Like fragments of a melody, I have not heard in years

Rekindling awed awareness of time’s daily birth and death

Of eulogies composed of words and deeds, laughter and tears

Sometimes the past feels like a dream of flowers smelled and felled

Or snowflakes hardly held before they melt into thin air

Today is like a ballad borne on notes that play then meld

To mosaics of sound and sight that slipped from here to there

© Janet Martin

Sometimes the past feels like a dream of flowers smelled and felled...

(Because) We Never Know From Day to Day...

Job 14:1-2

Man, who is born of woman,

is short of days and full of trouble.

Like a flower, he comes forth, then withers away;

like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.

We are a community in mourning

after a tragic traffic accident

Death has a way of re-reminding us 

to look our beloved families, neighbors and friends in the eye

and love them like we were on borrowed time!

We never know from day to day what will unfold of joy or grief

Life grants no guarantees but one; death an ineludible Chief

'Man born of woman’s, days are few and full of trouble', we are told

We never know who will be next to slip beyond our feeble hold

The best that we can do is live and love as if today could be

The day of lasts before we step from time into eternity

We never know when joys we often take for granted will conclude

How kinder we would be, how gentler, humbler our attitude/gratitude

The best that we can do is trust the Giver as the Taker too

And not demand an explanation when a numbered day comes due

The best that we can do is make the most of Opportunity

Because we never know from day to day, what waits to be

© Janet Martin

Today Would Be Your Birthday...(or, Treasured Legacy)

Today's poem-a-day prompt from Robert Lee Brewer.

For today's prompt, write a living poem.

Today and every day  is our

lifelong legacy in the making!

Let's make it treasure-able💝

This poem is about a Treasured Legacy I inherited

simply by being her granddaughter!!

Both of my gramma's birthdays were in April,

one on the 3rd, and one on the 13th!

(I hope a kind cousin or sibling corrects me if I got the dates confused...)

Today would be your birthday...

Caught by surprise...

I think if we would line up the stitches she sewed in her lifetime

they would reach to heaven and back

So many quilts and comforters for family and charity.

After her family was grown, so much mending

for her daughters and daughter-in-laws!

Her hands, when she was feeling well, were never idle!

My last 'family picture' of my grandparents.

She cared for our 'special Aunt' until she was no longer able

Then Special Aunt was welcomed into the homes of her siblings.

Today, would be your birthday

Dear Gramma, your legacy

Is the most treasured hand-me-down

That you have left for me

Life wasn’t always easy

Yet, your faithful un-complaint

Often made me wonder if you

Were a gram-disguised saint

Humble, frugal and generous

You treasured each grandchild (all forty-something of us!!)

And always made each one of us

Feel special when you smiled

Your sparkling eyes and helping hands

And wisdom-seasoned speech

Instilled within your precious ‘grands’

Sound truths for us to teach

Where now by time’s fleet sleight of hand

I am a gramma too

Trying to emulate the love-

-liness I learned from you

Trying to hand down memories

That, by God’s grace will be

In the heart of every grandchild

A treasured legacy

© Janet Martin

A few more Gramma mementos...

Like Old Postcards

Waste Not, Want Not

Waste not, want not

She said

as she shook the crumbs

from the bottom of a bread bag

for the birds

or her next casserole

placing the bag in a drawer for re-use

as she brought someone a freshly baked treat

Waste not, want not

She said

as she saved the yarn ends

to hang in trees

so the birds can have some color

in their nests too

Waste not, want not…

and rags were cut into strips

sewn together

and braided for mats (see picture above)

fabric scraps became comforters and quilts

for the needy

…or here and there perhaps a stuffed toy

Pie dough left-overs were scraped

from the counter-top and

put in a dish in the fridge

for next time

and seeds were collected from her garden

for next year

and empty spools were saved

for crafts and creations (see pictures above)

and she would tell me of their wedding

during the depression years

and how they had to choose

between either turnips or potatoes

for their meal

and how her aunt took a cherished vase

out of her china cupboard

and gave it to her

as a wedding gift

because there was no money

and then she would often repeat

‘He who does not value a penny

does not deserve a dollar’

She never heard

Reduce, reuse, and recycle

But she reminded me constantly

That no generation is immune

To hard times or want

As the root cellar was filled with

Preserves from her garden

I am glad to have known

This part of her

As I attempt to pass some of Grandma on

To the next generation

In waste not, want not

© Janet Martin

I am privileged to be living  in the house 

that belonged to one of the most beautiful people I ever knew;

 my Grandma.

And then, a new song uploaded today by two artists I LOVE,

fitting perfectly with today's prompt

Cycle  of Life