Over the years i have enjoyed writing a little poetry, some limericks, songs, a few short stories, reflections and odds and ends. Thought I'd share them with you.
Thursday, November 9, 2023
Are There Any Trees Left In Gaza- A Lament
Wednesday, August 9, 2023
Who Is This?
Who Is This?
Song inspired from Luke 8:25. 1994. No one comes remotely close in my view, but then again we don't have to be if He is in us.
Who is this that calls the wind and the waves
To be still at his spoken word
And walks upon the water
As it were the dry land
Who is this that changed the water to wine
And fed the thousands too
And said cast your nets upon the other side
The fish are there for you
(Chorus)
Jesus Lord you are the one who’s turned the world around
Displaying the mighty power of God right throughout the land,
And now the Spirit’s in our hearts and we have faith too
In the name of Jesus those mountains move.
Who is this that cast out evil spirits
And heals the sick and lame
Who restores the broken hearted
And raise the dead from their graves
Who is this that we should stand in awe
As he taught with authority
Words bringing life
The truth to set us free
Chorus
Who is this that sweat those precious drops of blood
In Gethsemane
And on the cross a pierced loving heart
Dying for you and me
Who is this that death could not hold
The royal battle won
And now we have faith to believe for the kingdom of the son
And now we have faith to believe for the kingdom of the son.
Friday, June 30, 2023
The Holy Of Holies
Chatting with a friend, a former manager of M&S, he amusingly referred to a certain food retailer as 'The Holy of Holies'. Well food perhaps being one of the new religions, here are the top 10 UK supermarkets with their advertising slogans featured in italics.
The Holy of Holies
And so, armed with my shopping list and eco jute bag, i approached the Outer Court, past street vendors, nearly being knocked down by an Ocado vehicle, with its driver shouting out the window, 'Going the last mile'.
Iceland, the frozen food experts-food you can trust were by the door and as I entered the Outer Court I was met by a wide assortment of customers busy in the middle aisle and rummaging through crates labelled 'Big on quality, Lidl on price'. Someone at the Aldi check out nearby sweating and smiling with a laden trolley simply said, 'Spend a little, live a lot'.
I decided to press through to the slightly quieter Inner Court to be told in no uncertain terms 'It's what we do-Co-op' and 'Get the Asda price feeling'. Whilst I was searching for the feeling I was distracted by a tanoy announcement 'More reasons to shop at Morrisons. All department managers for a huddle in ten'.
Well, maybe I'll discover the 'reasons' next time and continued up the 12 Steps towards the Holy Place. There were staff on hand from Sainsburys taste the difference team on one side where good food costs less, not sure about that, less than what, and saying they were helping people eat better. Meanwhile rival Tesco's Finest on the other were confident 'Every little helps'. Well i am sure it does, however, this was all too much, even with the app, and I thought I would check out the Holy Place.
As I entered the atmosphere changed, and it wasn't the efficient air-con. I became self-conscious, adjusted my appearance in the window, combed my hair and made doubly sure i had the means to pay. Well the Holy place was anything but ordinary, well heeled, black shirted staff meeting my gaze in the food hall with, 'This is not just food-this is M&S food'. I was impressed, it was nice to be welcomed, until the bill, and i still felt slightly unfulfilled knowing there was more, yes....the Holy of Holies.
I summoned up the courage to enter this special place, yes that's right, the Holy of Holies, not reserved for just the CEO yearly like a high priest, no but for one and all and daily too, as though the curtain had been torn in two giving unlimited access. Before me was the finest of fare, every comestible and comfort, a pleasurable experience to behold.
A smartly turned out assistant was immediately to hand and in a politely spoken manner proudly announced the words memorised from the manual, 'We are more than employees we're owners, partners. I presume you have your members card, do join me in a complimentary cup of coffee and magazine, I'll tell you more of what this heaven on earth is like. After all its food to feel good about, quality food, honestly priced. Everyone deserves quality food. Everyone deserves Waitrose'.
Wednesday, June 14, 2023
Three Men In A Car: Maroc Espana
Flew out to Marrakech and drove back to Bath with friends Tom, and Rev Patrick in his Peugeot 207. Across Morocco and Spain taking in Casablanca, Fes, Tangier (Cueta), ferry Straits of Gibraltar, Algeciras, Granada (Alhambra), Albarcin, Zaragoza, Pamplona, Santander, ferry to Plymouth. Some reflections on a great trip. May 2023.
Maroc Espana
Land of medinas and souks
The chaotic and exotic
Monkeys wearing dresses, cobras charmed for their supper, all the fun of the fair in the square Marrakech!
Towering mosques, 'Salaam Alaikum Allahu Akbar' -'Wa Alaikum Salaam'.
The dirham's king, the tourist an opportunity 'my friend, come with me'
Ancient and modern sit together with artisans working thuya, pottery, mosaics, leather, weavers at the loom, centres of study with the world's 1st university, fields worked the old fashioned way, fruit and veg for the foreign table, big plans for harnessing the wind and sun.
The high Atlas an inviting backdrop, Sahara to the south with coastlines, a King, palaces, riads, kaspars the feral and fez,
Mules, horses, camels, motorbikes all lively options, feel the heat join the beat, 'play it again Sam' at Casablanca's Rick's Cafe.
Parle vous Francais? Enjoy a mint tea and tagine, listen to a Berber's story, be still at a fountain pool an oasis jardin for an hour or two,
Maroc is growing with a bienvenue.
Across the Strait, past the Rock olla buenos dias senor senora, home to tapas, citrus, flamenco and the running bull.
Smart roads connecting fortified medieval gems in the quiet scrubby interior, city plazas stylishly combining old and new, where rich and mellow the guitar sweetly sings.
Catholic baroque and gothic watch over the mighty Ebro, the influence of The Moors treasured, regions steeped in history like Aragon and o sweet Catherine a sad end with a humble grave in England.
Goya, Picasso exhibit once again-si si Espana has much to celebrate-a cultural superpower where the world wants to visit, a colonising language, a serious EU player, banking acumen in Santander and Aviva, solar and wind powerhouse, muy buena health care, The Veulta, a Nadal or Real, a land of beaches, ex pats, goats herds, ham, olives, fish, and catch crops for Europe.
Espana, a country on the camino way, deep wounds healed of civil war, the Catalan quest, challenge of jobs for the young- ever moving towards Santiago Compostela- muchas grasias senor senora, hasto luego!
Thursday, May 11, 2023
Ring For The King
Monday, April 10, 2023
What Is The Point?
Catherine’s Retirement & Resurrection Lunch. Easter, 2023- there was fizz😄
What Is The Point?
Birthday without the candles
Celebration without the fizz
Retirement without a send off
Life without a purpose
Actor without a stage
What's the point of
Christmas without a virgin birth
Easter without a resurrection
Mountain without a summit
Tunnell with no ending
Ship with no rudder
A problem with no solution
And as for
Effort but no power
Sowing without reaping
Plant without water
Bud but no flower
Blossom but no fruit
Forgiven without forgiving
Shown mercy without being merciful
Oh and
Justice without mercy
Giving without receiving
Loved without loving
Sheep with no shepherd
Served but not willing to serve
And even
Of a longing not fulfilled
An absence of war but no peace
A Saviour but not being saved
End of life without eternity
Eternity without a heaven
What IS the point?
Thursday, April 6, 2023
A Short Poultry Story- Life On The Plot
Loved keeping hens over the years, you can wile away the hours just watching them
Life On The Plot
A paltry
poultry story by Paul Bright. Dec 2010
We were glad to get away from
the farm i can tell you- no not that farm at Langley CIA HQ silly; I mean
Paxcroft Farm the other side of Trowbridge!
1500 of us cooped up in that barn, so getting selected was pretty smart,
don’t you think? We just got grabbed by
the legs and stuffed in a box actually, not the correct way to handle a bird! Cor
can remember that day like yesterday, it was so hot in that box coming across
to Bath in the car, I tried to tell the little girl, Molly’s her name I think,
to give us some more air but she didn’t want to know, I think she was a bit scared
of us initially with our big feet, flappy wings and sharp beaks. You know
crammed in like that with my new buddies I had to keep my beak open just to
breathe.
Well, we soon arrived on ‘the
plot’ as we now call it, a small secluded allotment site surrounded by houses,
nevertheless, with the greenery etc we don’t feel overlooked as we need our privacy
when performing our ‘daily miracle’, yea we like it there and feel well
settled. Took a few days to sus out the place, however, bearing in mind that big
barn we came from and don’t forget we’re only youngsters, POL- point of lay
dummy, and learning the ropes. Anyway we
were put in this ark and run on ‘the plot’ under the plum tree, and didn’t know
we had to go down the ladder to get out, so we were stuck up there until the people
took us down. Same when it was time for bed we just thought we would be carried
up like kids but no, had to do it ourselves- got it sorted now, bit of
independence like.
I am glad we were given names by the people because it
means we won’t be eaten, least we hope not- we did hear one of the people say
they would put us in the pot after the first year and it doesn’t pay to keep hens
after their second laying season- we’ll take our chance, 4-5 years would be a
good life. We’ve got our private names of course but to you I’m Eeny, the dark
one and top of the pecking order and my buddies are Meeny, Miny and Moe, something
about a rhyme, or something.
You probably want to know
what breed we are- Highline one of the coolest layers going, none of our fancy
cousins like Buff Orpington who strut around the place, look pretty but don’t produce
the goods. It would be nice to have a bit of male company such as a Leghorn cockerel to keep us in order, we do like to misbehave,
and have a few kids running about the place- can’t believe the number of people
who don’t know how chickens are made. But we know it would upset the neighbours
and it’s against the allotment regs anyway- ‘cattle, dogs and poultry shall not
be kept in such places or in such a manner as to be a nuisance or annoyance to
the inhabitants’- sounding off at 3am on a summer’s morning wouldn’t do would it?
Now we soon got a daily
routine established- up with the sun, come down, bit of a pooh, drink and feed,
house cleaning, back up for the ‘miracle’- now that can be a pressure because
only two of us can get in the nesting box at one time and if you can’t wait
your have to lay it carefully on the landing! Once the egg has been discharged
you can take it easy and have a preen, that’s a personal clean, fluffy bottoms
and all that- we go mad after wet weather when there is a bit of sun coming through.
We need to preen the old feathers with the waxy stuff using the gland at the base
of our vent at the top of the tail, to waterproof the feathers again. We like a
bit of grit too to help the digestion, you see grit in the gizzard acts like
teeth for us-‘like hen’s teeth’ get it? We haven’t got any! The people tend to
come up in the afternoon and are pretty good on cleaning us out, getting the
goods of course and letting us have a run around and stretch our legs. A balanced
layers meal is just the ticket for us, ok like cats the same every day, and we
prefer the organic type. Greens-yep more the merrier and even a bit of pasta or
rice- eh some wise crack said we could be chicken tikka masala, sure!!!
Blue the black cat with the
bent ear is a bit of a pain and stalks us; we tolerate him and show whose boss
by making noises and flapping our wings at him. Monty the other one is much more
sensible and just watches us from a distance.
We like to grub around,
especially when the ground has been freshly dug, but have to be careful though,
and not get in the way of the spade or fork- it’s not nice on the foot you know!
We like to wander and ended once up over the fence in the next door
garden. The people haven’t clipped our
wings so we like to fly low and whizz around like a harrier. We do like a good
dust bath especially in the poly tunnel alongside the tomatoes where the soil
is warm and fine- keeps our plumage healthy, cool in hot weather and those nasty
insect pests at bay. We’re not too keen on the wind and rain that’s why we really
appreciate the people putting us in the poly tunnel over winter, smart move.
Even then the water has frozen over on occasions and its tough breaking it
through.
They usually coax us in with
some corn –fall for it nearly every time but occasionally give them the run round.
Might have a final drink before bed, and then at dusk it’s time to go up the
ladder and into the house for TV, knitting,
watch a film like Chicken Run etc before wing over the head and settle down for
the night on the bar.
Now
i gotta explain a bit more about the ‘daily miracle’. The people say it is ‘a miracle’ every time we lay one- they’re right
of course- a miracle as you know is ‘An event that appears inexplicable by the
laws of nature and so is held to be supernatural in origin or an act of God: One
that excites admiring awe’. Our eggs are
beautifully packaged and one can recycle the
shell in all sorts of ways. Eggs last a long time, you don’t have to keep them
in the fridge by the way, and as for value for money, I cost £7, well there is
the cost of the feed but think how many I lay- for instance 1 a day, hardly
miss, that’s hundreds in a year, thousand
or so in a life time!
Listen a few facts about eggs, you need to follow this closely, it’s a bit technical- eggs develop one by one in us and become detached and slip into the oviduct- along a twisted tube ending in the vent or anus through which our droppings and eggs pass on leaving the body. You see the oviduct is in two parts. In the first portion the white or albumen is deposited around the yolk of the egg- takes 3-5hrs and in the second part of the oviduct the shell is made which is another 15hrs, got to get the packaging right for the customer otherwise it’s a mess, oh and there’s no date on it, you have to do that yourself- so you see we’ve always got one on the go. Sometimes we do a double yoker just for a laugh. Recently Meeny laid a 100g egg a real whopper. (3.5oz)
As yet we haven’t had any
hassle from the fox and keep pretty well thanks. We only start to moult after
12months beginning early autumn and haven’t been tempted or tested with getting
broody, feather eating, egg eating, egg binding, prolapses, common colds, roup,
cramp, liver disease, fowl cholera, crop bound, or Newcastle disease whatever
that is! On Guy Fawkes Night our owners
had made a bonfire and we overheard someone say to them you could have roast
chicken- not funny!
What do we contribute?- fresh manure for sure, the very best you can
get- per bird per day is over 90g (4oz)- in fact if you had 100 birds you would
make nearly four tons a year, think about that...deep pooh! Our eggs are freeish
range- £1.20 half doz to you, normally £1.76 check out the colour of the yoke,
oh and let’s not forget creating amusement, pleasure- we’ve quite a repertoire of
sounds, don’t mind being picked up and stroked, we keep the bugs down, make the
new neighbours feel welcome and grub over their freshly dug ground.
Well, time to wind up, why
don’t you come up and see us sometime, we’ll show you around the plot and if you
have time then join us for a meal. On the menu this week is a smoked salmon
soufflé starter, Lancashire Tart main course, accompanied by fresh veg from the plot, and for pud a choice
of chocolate roulade, crème caramel or pavlova- all with fresh eggs of course! Yeah
come on up, we’re always in!
PS. Post
meal entertainment: The World's Longest List
of Chicken Sayings...! http://www.chickenvideo.com/sayings.html
A Short Drama for Christmas for family and friends -Blood On The Snow
Blood on
the snow
Light Christmas
drama story, narrated with props, audience sits in circle in the dark. 2001
This is the
story of the one eyed mountaineer Berg Schmit, here’s his other eye (pass round
wet marble or pickled onion).
One day he went
mountain walking with his friend of many years standing Rabin Ravine. It was
winter and snowy (pass snow/wet/ice cubes).
One thing Berg
always did when going out was to take his small pet rat called Nibbles (pass
mouse).
They climbed
higher and higher through the forest (pass fern) and past mountain cattle and
sheep (sound of sheep/cows-toy), towards the shelf ridge which they could clearly
see through the binoculars (pass bins).
Now unknown to Berg,
Rabin was heavily in debt over a business transaction. He was so desperate, and
knowing of Berg’s wealth, and that he lived alone, he decided there and then to
kill him. He would then impersonate Berg, take his funds from the bank account
and no one would know.
By now they were
walking across a crevasse and Rabin seized the moment by stabbing him in the back
of the neck with the end of a ski pole (pass ski pole). Berg fell forward in
agony and Rabin then hurriedly picking up a rock repeatedly rained blows on his
head, rendering him unconscious (pass rock).He thought he was dead. Rabin had
to hide the body so that he would never be found and so pushed him down into
the crevasse. Little did he know however was that Berg was alive and lodged on
a ledge out of sight 20 feet down. After a couple of hours he came too and
immediately took some survival tablets (pass tablets). He knew he had to get out soon as the wound
to his head was becoming gangrenous and smelt awful (pass stilton cheese). Even
Nibbles was getting interested, he was so hungry. His fingers were hard to the
core (pass carrot).
Then he thought
Nibbles was his only chance and decided to tie a note to him with the location.
He sent him up the crevasse and was gone. Nibbles had to find human help, he
knew that. Walkers were often passing by this popular route and Nibbles hadn’t
gone far when he bumped into someone (pass mouse with note).
Help soon arrived
at the top of the crevasse and Berg could signal his location with his torch
(flash torch).The rescuers lay down a rope (pass rope) and Berg was quickly pulled
clear. One of the rescuers had a walkie talkie and called in a red cross
helicopter with doctor(radio talk). The doctor immediately gave Berg a morphine
injection to ease the pain (pass loaded syringe of water) and he was then transported
to Innsbruck Hospital.
It was decided
immediately to operate and Berg could smell the clinical smell of the operating
theatre (pass TCP/Surgical spirit on cotton wool) whilst the surgeons were gowning
up (pass plastic gloves). The operation was risky and surgeons had to pull the
skin away from the brain, exposing the brain itself (pass part cauliflower/cabbage). They completed
by using a stapler and scissors (pass stapler and scissors).
Berg was in the
recovery room and was able to speak for the first time-life was coming back. He
told the nurse in attendance everything about Rabin who was later arrested
(pass handcuffs) and convicted of attempted murder……
….Oh but sorry
to say Nibbles didn’t survive and died from frost bite (pass mouse).
What is the
moral of the story? Don’t take your pets for granted, you never know when they
might come in, however small, and may even save your life .
A Short Story- Bees Behaving Badly
Bees Behaving Badly
Paul Bright 2002
‘Eat
honey my son for it is good: honey from the comb is sweet to the taste, know also
that wisdom is sweet to your soul.’ Proverbs 24.13.
Well there they were on the beautiful Llyn Peninsula of North Wales, it’s the long finger of land that thrusts out towards Ireland if you don’t know. Basing themselves in their friend’s holiday cottage called Ty Pen, which means end house, at Nefyn an un commercialised historic little town famous in the past for its shipbuilding and herring fleet, Paul and Catherine’s minds were buzzing with a list of things they needed for the week. Taking a trip to the local Spar they decided there was still one item missing for the two honey monsters…. a jar or two of the local nectar!
Making
a beeline for a cottage situated nearby in the delightful little village of
Edern they knew of a family who sold at the door and from whom Paul and Catherine
had bought some honey cone from last year.
The
door was answered by a tall thin lady with long, finely combed hair and done up
in cone like fashion held by a red clasp. From within there was a buzzing sound
of children and plates clattering and it immediately became clear it was tea
time with the brood swarming round the table, tucking into a tasty dish like
bees round a honey pot.
The
lady called out to her husband ‘sweetheart there’s someone who wants to buy honey’.
‘Okay my queen, coming’, came the reply from deep within. Paul apologised for calling
at such a busy time, ‘Oh no’, she said, ‘we’re used to flying into action at a
moment’s notice, nature of the business’.
Mr
Haywood the beekeeper came to the door, a man in his forties with suntanned complexion
and wearing round-rimmed glasses resembling compound eyes. He was holding a
couple of pots of liquid gold…wildflower and heather honey, which he had taken from
his store at the bottom of the stairs.
The
beekeeper had a cold, evidenced by him blowing a runny nose, however, on being
asked how the bees were he started waxing lyrical about the years he had been an
apiarist. In fact we learnt later that he was the bee inspector for the area
and would visit other beekeepers to check on their broods and produce.
At
one point Mr Haywood confessed that when he had the bees at home he got into
trouble with the neighbours and had to move them to an ‘out apiary’ site. On
enquiring why he described that when the bees took off together they always went
on the same flight path over his neighbour’s car and rhetorically asked, ‘do
you know what the first thing bees do when they take off?’ No what are the first
thing bees do when they take off? He said
‘they open their bowels and their droppings set like enamel and in this case over
the neighbour’s new car. My neighbour was beside himself with anger and so I
had to move them’.
By
this time the beekeeper was droning on somewhat and Paul and Catherine wanted
to settle up. They were told the honey was a set price at £3.50 a jar, but more
expensive at the shop a few doors away where the proprietor tended to hive off some
profit. Paul and Catherine thought they had been stung as back home in Bath one
could get it at the local greengrocers for £2.20 for 454grams, which is 1lb for
those who still like to think that way.
Catherine concluded ‘well if it keeps one worker in business I believe its
worth it, lets be off and taste and see!’.
THE END
A Short Story- Bruce The Christmas Spruce
A short story to Catherine, niece Claire and nephew Tom. December 1988
Bruce the Christmas Spruce
Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming, Christmas is coming!
So the words whistled in the wind around the forest, high up in the glen.
Bruce the Scottish spruce knew as well as any, having seen it all before,
but this year he had a feeling things were going to be different. Standing ten
feet tall he was truly a fine pine, braving the worst storms and providing shelter
for creatures below.
Bruce could now see the workers approaching armed with saws and spades,
ready to take the Christmas stock of trees. A hush fell upon the forest and a sapling
was heard to say to his older neighbour,
‘I don’t want to go, don’t let them cut me down’
‘Stop pining!’ Came the reply, ‘this
is what you were planted for!’
Bruce had his needles crossed as the men worked nearby. The sound of
the saw sent shivers down his pine, and yes he was right, it was going to be
different this year….it was his turn!
The saw was put to the bottom of the tree and Bruce closed his eyes in despair
for what was to come.
‘Don’t cut me down, don’t cut me down’, he cried.
At that moment the man stopped as though someone had spoken to him and he
put the saw down, picked up a spade and dug Bruce up roots and all!
Bruce could not contain his relief and thanked the man for the chance
to live.
It was a bumpy journey in the back of the trailer with all those Christmas
trees- it gave him pins and needles, Soon,however, Bruce could see the town
lights and the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers.
‘Where am I going, who is going to buy me, oh I want to live’. These
were the thoughts that filled his mind.
‘£10, huh, I thought I was worth more than that, still I’ll be a bargain
for someone’.
And no sooner had he said this than a couple picked him up and put him
in the back of their Land rover. On the journey Bruce had company too. Claire
and Tom talked excitedly of how they were going to decorate the tree. They were
really nice; perhaps things were not going to be so bad after all.
Bruce looked a picture in the drawing room even though he didn’t
believe in fairies and would have preferred an angel on top. The white lights
sparkled and really set him off. For a moment he saw himself waltzing across the
floor with Ruth, an old friend in the forest- what a sweet fragrance she had!
Soon the Christmas festivities were in full swing and Bruce loved every
minute, especially covering up the presents on the tree with his branches so that
Claire and Tom had difficulty finding them.
On New Years day though Bruce felt really unwell and it wasn’t due to
too much Christmas pudding that was for sure. His needles were dropping like
nine pins and he needed water quickly if he was to survive- had the family
forgotten he was alive?
Bruce started counting the days of Christmas on what was left of his
needles, but his pining must have been heard for as the family sang ‘On the 12th day of Christmas’,
Claire said
‘Come on we’re going to plant you outside and watch you grow!’
Bruce’s face unknotted and his shrivelled trunk creaked with sighs of
relief,
‘A chance to live, but can I survive after losing so many needles?’
Luckily the family were keen gardeners and gave Bruce FIRst Aid and he not only survived but grew into the finest Scots Pine in the land.
Birds and small
creatures would come from afar just to nest in his branches, and what he loved
more than anything was when Claire and Tom climbed right to the top of the tree,
that really tickled. But little did they know that as the children looked out they
could see the forest he came from, and his heart went out to that place.
One night Bruce had a dream that he was back in the forest with his friends
and it was Christmas again. This time though he didn’t hear the whistle in the
wind…
Christmas is coming, Christmas is
coming, Christmas is coming!
No, it was a new sound, that was vibrant and exciting….
Jesus is coming, Jesus is coming, Jesus is coming!
Then the trees started singing with joy….
(Isaiah 55)
‘Oh he comes to judge the earth
He will judge the world in righteousness
And the peoples in truth
(Psalm 96:12)
The noise became louder and louder as a mighty wind blew through the forest
causing the branches to rustle with joy. A shout went up and then Bruce saw an
amazing thing….the trees actually started to clap their branches, singing again
and again the words he had heard, as they swayed together in the wind. ‘Oh he comes to judge the earth……’
Bruce was so excited his needles stood on end and he just felt he had to
join in, swaying to and fro. Oh how he wanted the dream to go on forever.
Suddenly he stopped… and realised it wasn’t a dream at all… but that it
was actually happening. He knew then that it really would go on forever and
ever.
(Finish with chorus- You shall go out with
joy and be led forth with peace and the mountains and the hills shall break forth
before you. There’ll be shouts of joy and the trees of the fields shall clap, shall
clap their hands.
And the trees of the field shall clap their
hands and the trees of the field shall clap their hands, and the trees of the field
shall clap their hands, and you’ll go out with joy. Songs of Fellowship 640)
THE END
There Was A Young Virgin
What does Christmas mean to you? December 2012
There
was a young Virgin
There was a young virgin, a Nazarene
Pledged to Joseph who had a dream
The child she would bear, 'God with us' there
The world through him would redeem
To Bethlehem travel and register
They could find no place to rest for her
When time for the birth, there was only the earth
Out the back was best they could do for her
The shepherds were shocked at the news
Even the sheep were looking bemused
But the angel was right and there in the night
The baby in manger they viewed
Wise men travelled in from the east
And asked Herod where was the feast
The feast of the king born King of the Jews
We’ve followed his star from the east
To the house the star came to rest
The wise men entered and blessed
Blessed and worshipped the child there lay
And gifts they gave of their best
Eight days passed, to the temple they went
Named Jesus and the cut underwent
Prophetic manna from Simeon and Anna
Blessed them as Galilee bent
When Herod realised he'd been outplayed
By the Magi who'd gone on their way
The boys were slaughtered, he gave the order
There was weeping and wailing for days
Then Joseph warned in a dream
Took child and Mary unseen
From Bethlehem fled, to Egypt led
Away from Herod’s cruel scheme
In time an angel appeared
There was now no need for fear
To Nazareth led they made their bed
In wisdom and grace he was reared.
....The child she would bear, 'God with us' there
The world through him would redeem
In The Resurrection
Reflecting on the death of The Queen and Liz Chatfield and others Sept 2022.
In the Resurrection.
The Queen is in the resurrection
With the angels
Saved into your loving presence
Life for eternity
And Rod's there, Liz, Graham, Ivor, Alex too
Dad's in the resurrection, and Grandpa, Grandma, Auntie Marjorie.Begonia's there with Simon, and Quintus, Roger, Margaret, Linda and Jill
And Billy's in the resurrection, with Corrie, Dietrich, John, Lydia, Cornelieus, Paul, Cephas, Thomas, and
There with the angels in your loving presence
When We Get To Heaven
I am sure there will be some surprises in the new heaven and earth, and will our pets be with us?June 2020. Can visualise Catherine in heaven with all the cats on her.
When We Get To Heaven
When we get to heaven
Who's going to sit on your lap
Who's going to fill that position
Where it's warm to have a cat nap
Which of our honourable felines
Down through all the years
Will ascend this special throne
The favourite one so dear
Amelia Barrass Fox
Was first to us you see
Educated at Aunties learned home
A classic furry taxonomy
Next Charlie would have a claim
Bought at a price with the house
Thrown in free
A hit with the lodgers but diabetic,
Now he's running free
But what about Sparky, black lamb
And Catherine's best friend,
With a jealous streak she was number one
From beginning to the very end
Yet, her 'brother'
The noble Earl Grey
A Russian Blue who strode like Aslan
Surely, he would have his say
Finally, the cat who walks by herself
And wandered in to stay
Mia Belle or Mimi, striped mackerel tabby
Usually gets her way
Enough roars Aslan in heaven
There is room for all without jealousies,
For the lion lies down with the lamb
Simple, like cats’ eyes, it will be.
Robin
We can learn from the Robin, ever present gardener's friend and when things are adverse, still sings.
Robin
As storm clouds gather, nature braces,
Takes cover once again
Yet take heart from the ever-present robin
Still singing in the rain.
Undesirable Members Of The Family
With thanks to my gardening friend Rowan all he taught me, and no offence intended to the trees and animals- in their place fine! Oct 2020. Oh and we can add Box moth caterpillar to the list- its just destroyed my box hedging!! April 2023
Undesirable Members of The Family
Hazel and Ivy, are sisters with a lot to answer for,
You can coppice and cut them, but they'll still come back with more.
Mares tail and bindweed sneak underground,
And given half a chance they'll cover you, and choke all around
Cousin Couch is a lawn best not fed,
Dig him and burn him or bin him instead
Watch those sycamore, ash, and oak babies go,
Soon you'll have a forest, so stop them before they grow
And those little pests and diseases, blights and mites
Be on them in the morning, tea break, noon and night.
Dont forget our friends deer, badger, rabbit and moley
Given half a chance they’ll leave your garden chewed and holey.
Nearly there, but mustn't forget our brother tough boy bamboo,
He burns hot and fast, so dig him out- you know what to do
Finally, those distant kin Himalayan balsam and the dreaded Japanese
knotweed,
If you have or your selling up........ don't call me!
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