Posted in Poem

A relationship is…

A relationship is not what everyone thinks it is. It’s not waking up early every morning to make breakfast and eat together. It’s not cuddling in bed together until both of you peacefully fall asleep. It’s not a clean home and a homemade meal every day.
It’s someone who steals all the covers or snores like a chainsaw. It’s sometimes slammed doors, and a few harsh words, disagreeing, and the silent treatment until your hearts heal. It’s about growing together because your love is stronger than all struggles..
Then…forgiveness!

It’s coming home to the same person everyday that you know loves and cares about you, in spite of and because of who you are.

It’s laughing about all times you accidentally did something stupid. It’s about dirty laundry and unmade beds without finger pointing. It’s about helping each other with the hard work of life! It’s about swallowing the nagging words instead of saying them out loud.
It’s about eating the cheapest and easiest meal you can make and sitting down together to eat because you both had a crazy day.

It’s when you have an emotional breakdown, and your love lays with you and holds you and tells you everything is going to be okay, and you believe them.

It’s when “Netflix and Chill” literally means you watch Netflix and hang out. It’s about still loving someone even though sometimes they make you absolutely insane, angry, and hurt your feelings. Who loves you for fat or thin, happy or grumpy, young or old.

Marriage, being in love with the person you love is not perfect, and sometimes it’s hard, but it’s amazing, comforting, and one of the best things you’ll ever experience.

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Posted in Poem

Ducks

From troubles of the world I turn to ducks,

Beautiful comical things

Sleeping or curled

Their heads beneath white wings

By water cool,

Or finding curious things

To eat in various mucks

Beneath the pool, ….
Yes, ducks are valiant things

On nests of twigs and straws,

And ducks are soothy things

And lovely on the lake

When that the sunlight draws

Thereon their pictures dim In colours cool.

And when beneath the pool

They dabble, and when they swim

And make their rippling rings,

O ducks are beautiful things!

But ducks are comical things:-

As comical as you. Quack!

They waddle round, they do.

They eat all sorts of things,

And then they quack.

By barn and stable and stack

They wander at their will,

But if you go too near

They look at you through black

Small topaz-tinted eyes

And wish you ill.
When God had finished the stars and whirl of coloured suns

He turned His mind from big things to fashion little ones;

Beautiful tiny things (like daisies) He made, and then

He made the comical ones in case the minds of men

Should stiffen and become

Dull, humourless and glum,

And so forgetful of their Maker be

As to take even themselves – quite seriously.

Caterpillars and cats are lively and excellent puns:

All God’s jokes are good – even the practical ones!

And as for the duck, I think God must have smiled a bit

Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it.

And he’s probably laughing still at the sound that came out of its bill!

by F.W. Harvey

Posted in Humour, Poem

I rely on you

I rely on you
like a Skoda needs suspension
like the aged need a pension
like a trampoline needs tension
like a bungee jump needs apprehension
I rely on you
like a camera needs a shutter
like a gambler needs a flutter
like a golfer needs a putter
like a buttered scone involves some butter
I rely on you
like an acrobat needs ice cool nerve
like a hairpin needs a drastic curve
like an HGV needs endless derv
like an outside left needs a body swerve
I rely on you
like a handyman needs pliers
like an auctioneer needs buyers
like a laundromat needs driers
like The Good Life needed Richard Briers
I rely on you
like a water vole needs water
like a brick outhouse needs mortar
like a lemming to the slaughter
Ryan’s just Ryan without his daughter
I rely on you

By Hovis Presley

Posted in Poem

The Incarnate One by Edwin Muir

The windless northern surge, the sea-gull’s scream,
And Calvin’s kirk crowning the barren brae.
I think of Giotto the Tuscan shepherd’s dream,
Christ, man and creature in their inner day.
How could our race betray
The Image, and the Incarnate One unmake
Who chose this form and fashion for our sake?

The Word made flesh here is made word again
A word made word in flourish and arrogant crook.
See there King Calvin with his iron pen,
And God three angry letters in a book,
And there the logical hook
On which the Mystery is impaled and bent
Into an ideological argument.

There’s better gospel in man’s natural tongue,
And truer sight was theirs outside the Law
Who saw the far side of the Cross among
The archaic peoples in their ancient awe,
In ignorant wonder saw
The wooden cross-tree on the bare hillside,
Not knowing that there a God suffered and died.

The fleshless word, growing, will bring us down,
Pagan and Christian man alike will fall,
The auguries say, the white and black and brown,
The merry and the sad, theorist, lover, all
Invisibly will fall:
Abstract calamity, save for those who can
Build their cold empire on the abstract man.

A soft breeze stirs and all my thoughts are blown
Far out to sea and lost. Yet I know well
The bloodless word will battle for its own
Invisibly in brain and nerve and cell.
The generations tell
Their personal tale: the One has far to go
Past the mirages and the murdering snow.

I heard this poem mentioned when I was at St George’s at Windsor. An amazing place and lots of ideas.

Posted in Poppy

Poppy

My beautiful and courageous Poppy lost her fight with a very progressive cancer at the young age of 6.

Thank you to everyone for your prayers and support.

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Posted in Humour, Poem

Carol

Come to our Nativity play

Raggy doll asleep on the hay

Itchy knickers, bogey-pickers,

I’ve got a bit to say.

O, I’m the star as you can tell

I’m the Angel Gabriel.

Silver wings and halo thing and

Glittery tights as well.

They two kings of orient are

Kevin jones and Dominic Barr.

Barry Bright has tonsilitis-

Sick in his father’s car.

See the shepherds watching their sheep.

Amber Cardy’s gone off to sleep.

She was snogging Nathaniel Hogg in a

Cupboard and he’s a creep!

Mary, Mary, good as can be

Thinks she’s always better than me

Till my candle burns her sandal

Quite accidentally.

Adam’s Herod, up on a chair

In his robe and underwear.

It’s so rude, he’s nearly NUDE

And I saw his pants, so there.

Mums and Grandmas sit in a row,

Toddlers want to be in the show,

Dads who are able to stand on a table to

Get it on video.

(to be sung to ‘We Three Kings’)

by John Whitworth