The Flying Squad

Plunging,
Squealing,
Tumbling, 
Wheeling,
Swifts are flying,
Death-Defying!
Speeding through the skies,
With skills that mesmerize.

Screeching,
Swooping,
Loop-the-Looping,
Pitching,
Chasing,
Roof-top-racing,
A dizzying display,
Get your tickets here today! 

Risen!

Very early,
Sunday morn,
Grief rising up like a gathering storm,
Day-break,
Hearts ache,
As the weight of it all begins to dawn.

Thorns, nails,
Mournful wails,
Laid in a tomb that wasn't His own,
Laden with spices,
We make our way,
Not even knowing who'll roll back the stone.

Earth quake!
Guards shake,
Heavenly beings in dazzling white,
Our hearts pound with fear,
Afraid to draw near,
We fall to the ground at this awesome sight.

Don't fear!
He isn't here.
Why search for the living amongst the dead?
Hurry, go!
Let everyone know,
That Jesus is risen, just as He said.

To Love A Labrador

To love a Labrador,
And all the crazy joy she brings,
There's really nothing to it:
You must simply learn to love these things:

Early starts,
Morning barks
Dripping hair
Rainy parks, 
Six o'clock
On the dot,
Rain or shine,
Ready or not!

Muddy paws,
Mopping Floors,
Early morning tug-of-wars.

Boggy paths,
Soggy baths,
Crazy capers,
Belly laughs.

Sloppy kisses,
Slimy ball,
Dodging,
Chasing,
Bad recall.
Chasing squirrels,
Magpies too - 
Any moving thing will do!

Being followed
EVERYWHERE,
Stolen bits of underwear,
Chewed up slippers
Patchy lawn,
Shredded flowers,
Papers torn.

Licky face,
Tea-towel chase,
Zoomy round-the-table-race!
Piles of sticks
By the door,
(Did I mention mopping floor?)

Belly rubs,
And sofa cuddles,
Getting dragged through,
Muddy Puddles.

Thumping tail,
And big hellos,
Throw a stick
And off she goes!














Garden Song

An hour of toil in the garden,
Is always time well-spent
Tugging out those stubborn old weeds,
Which year upon year won't relent.

An hour spent tending the garden,
Is never wasted time,
Lungs full of wonderful sweet, Spring air,
Hands caked in dirt and grime.

It's hard to feel glum in the garden,
With birds chirping high in the trees,
Potting up Pansies, so cheery and bright,
Hair tugged about by the breeze.

Cutting the deadwood, turning the earth,
Allowing the sun to shine through,
Seems to clear my cluttered mind,
And lifts my spirits too.

Thank you dear Lord for my garden,
Humble and small though it be,
It's a place where so often I've felt You are near,
And Your joy surrounding me.

Once You knelt down in a garden,
And in terrible anguish You cried,
"Thy will, not Mine, be done O Lord!"
Abandoned.  Betrayed.  Denied.

One Sunday morn, in a garden,
You rose up again from the grave,
Bringing salvation and mercy and grace,
To the ones You came to save!

Happy New Year!

Ring out the old, and ring in the new,
Another year passes, but one thing is true,
A thousand small blessings have slipped through my hands,
Moments uncountable, vast as the sands.
Ordinary days that have come,
And then gone,
A sunrise, a sunset,
A whisper, 
A song.

Times spent with family,
Long summer days,
Here for a moment,
Then gone in a haze.
I wish I could hold all these moments forever,
Time marches onward,
But love ceases never.

So I'm thankful, so thankful,
For all that has been,
For the highs and the lows,
And the bits in between,
This journey of life 
With its ups and its downs,
The trials and the triumphs,
The joys and the frowns,
This life I've been given,
I long to embrace,
To cherish each moment,
Each dear, precious face,
Yet to live in surrender,
Not grasping too tight,
To live for eternity
To walk in the light,
Knowing this life is a gift from above,
That it all comes from you,
Oh great Father of love.

Pebble on the Beach

Last summer, as I was walking around Seagrove Bay on the Isle of Wight, I happened upon the brightly painted pebble that you can see pictured above. It had been left on the beach – quite deliberately – to bring a smile to whoever was fortunate enough to find it. Wasn’t I the lucky one? And what a sweet, sweet idea! An idea worth sharing, I thought, hence the poem below. And when I return to Seagrove Bay, I shall paint a pebble and leave it for someone else to find!

I found this pebble on the beach,
Quite by chance, the other day,
Painted brightly,
Just for fun,
And hidden there along the way.

I saw this pebble lying there,
Whilst walking round the shingly bay,
Coincidence?
A random chance?
A gift to make another's day.

I'll keep this pebble from the beach,
Because it always makes me smile,
Reminding me
That joy is free,
And kindness always so worthwhile.






 

A Spider’s Skill!

How doth the little spider be,
A Master of Geometry?
Oh tell me, tell me, if you know,
Where did she learn to weave quite so?
Please tell me little Spider friend,
How many hours did you spend
Creating such a sight to see,
Such skillful lines of symmetry?
Concentric frame,
Installed at night,
A work of art,
By morning light!



Autumn Glory

Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com
It's Autumn once more,
What a sight to behold,
Streets lined with crimson
And laden with gold,
Moon like a saucer,
Days getting shorter,
As summer lays down
To make way for the cold.

Warm woolen knits,
Crackling fires,
Wild geese take flight
Over pink sunset skies,
Off with a flap of migratory wings,
The earth gives birth,
Creation sings!

Season of beauty,
Nature's last fling,
Before winter makes bare
And the earth sleeps til' Spring,
Emblazoned in scarlet,
You take your last breath,
Your most glorious hour,
Was found at your death.

Zacchaeus





The Streets of the City were crowded that day,
The Teacher was coming, He was heading this way,
My heart leapt within at the sound of His Name,
This man who healed lepers, the blind and the lame.

But the crowds all around me were blocking my view,
And try as I might, I just couldn't push through,
(There's not much to be said for my stature - it's true,)
So I ended up right at the back of the queue.

Then ahead of the crowds, in the distance, I see,
Down the long, dusty road,
There's a Sycamore Tree,
I was desperate to see Him,
It had to be done,
I kicked up the dust and I started to run!

My robes snagged on twigs as I scrambled up high,
And I hoped against hope,
That He'd not pass me by,
Still, my heart skipped a beat when He stopped by that tree,
And He peered through the leaves, looking right up at me!

What would He say to a man such as me?
What was I doing here?
How could it be,
That this wonderful stranger should call me by name?
In that moment, I knew, I would not be the same.

The people were outraged,
He was going to eat,
At the home of Zacchaeus, the swindler, the cheat!
But whenever He spoke, all my pride fell apart,
Until something had changed in the depths of my heart.

The tears started falling, 
My heart overflowed,
I would pay it all back - every penny I owed.
I would give it all gladly,
I'd do anything,
For this wonderful man,
For this beautiful King!

The love that He showed me,
The grace that He gave,
Swept over my being,
Like wave upon wave,
What joy filled my soul,
And what gladness within,
When the Son of God cleansed me
From all of my sin.