The Crippled Woman

The Crippled Woman
  Lk: 13, 10-17

I'd heard of this rabbi, heard His words were life-changing,
I was eager to  be there, to hear Him for myself.
My cousins brought me that morning, after a good breakfast,
To the synagogue  -  It was the Sabbath.
Warmed by the sun we walked and discussed what
 He would be like.
Through the throng - jostled and pushed - there we were.
Eyes, accustomed to looking at the floor,
Now glimpsed, only for a moment, His manly features.
Suddenly His gaze held mine, frozen in time
He spoke, called me over
The crowd, quiet now, waited for Him to speak again,
Parted as I shuffled forward - dazed.
Holding His hands above me, a warmth ran through my blood,
Easing all feeling of pain,
He uttered,
"Woman, you are rid of your infirmity,"
As if in a dream I lifted myself up until I stood straight.
After eighteen years bent double, I was overjoyed.
I danced around, thanking Him and praising God.
It was all so unexpected.
I have told many people my story of that day when
I met Jesus in the synagogue.

The Poor Widow

Playing with a biblical theme today. 
I enjoy looking at the women in the bible and imagining their story. 

The Poor Widow

With heart full of thankfulness,
Shawl gathered around bony shoulders,
Head bent and adorned with
black headdress-
Cleaned,
I step out into the sun
And walk the three miles
To the Temple.
The dust of the road
Dry - hot
Catches in my throat
Irritates my feet.
But, today joy replaces fear.
Today, I give all - Everything,
Because I want to.
Two pennies...
Not a lot, you might say...
But for me there is nothing left
To give.
I drop them in the treasury,
Hear them fall ,
Jewels for my crown...
God has given to me first-
Now...

Luxury

The poetry prompt for today was luxury. I couldn't think of much so just wrote something:

Luxury.

What is luxury?

Is it fine clothes, 

And upmarket cars,

Carpets with deep pile,

Soft underfoot? 

Is it eating out at a posh restaurant,

With jewels falling over a sumptuous table

While ordering the most expensive champagne,

(Which tastes no better than lemonade,  

By the way)?

Is it a sensational cruise around the world

On five star liner,

With people milling about 

Seeing to your every whim?

What a luxurious life that would be .

But no,

Luxury isn't any of that.

It is awakening to a brand new day,

And seeing the sun come up,

Getting out of bed on two good feet,

Walking to adventures you're ready to meet.

It is having family,

Friends, and other folk

Who make your life what it is

A luxury of parts.  

My husband is doing portraits to raise money for our little friend Ollie, who thinks it would be a luxury to be able to walk by himself  :

50 Portraits for Ollie.
This is a contemporary portrait 8x8 inches in acrylic of a little friend of mine Ollie . This is the first portrait in a series of fifty portraits that I aim to complete to help raise funds for Ollie to have an operation in America . This painting is from a picture that Ollies parent's sent me .The aim is that you send a photo of any portrait you wish to be painted - person, pets etc and I will paint an acrylic 8 x 8 painting on canvas board You donate £ 40.00 to Ollies fund for which you will receive your painting . This is a preview of the idea. We have to finalise the details I just want to get this out there. So please share.

Treasure Hunt

Just taking these six words from the November prompt to play with today:

relent, horrendous, artifact, lagoon, wobble, and plunder

Treasure Hunt

The plight of one
Who has an horrendous urge
To plunder,
Who does not relent
In pursuit of the priceless artifact
Which, when found makes him wobble
With delight and dive into
A lagoon of pure joy.

Playground

PLAYGROUND

We weren't allowed to stay in
Even if we had bad weather
With coats and gloves we were shoved outside,
And told  we could huddle together.

That was ok for those who got on
They made their groups and told their tales,
But for me there was a lonely chill in the air
As I stood alone beside the rails.

The icy wind nibbled at my ears
And I watched the others warmly wrapped
I was invisible it seemed to me,
Scared in my  loneliness-  trapped.

That was when I was six or seven
But nothing changed much in the years after that
Teenagers still being marched out of doors,
I'd try to join in, get caught up in the chat.

You'd think I was happy to look at me
Jostling with others, learning to survive
It  put the bullies in their place
They wouldn't win while I could strive.

I thought I'd left all that behind
Grown up, been healed, moved on
Until I stood outside the playground
As a mum waiting for my son

The social isolation I felt came back to me
Those fearful emotions were with me again
But now I'm a grownup and have to get on
I'll smile, talk and finally, maybe,  bury the pain

COUNTDOWN

COUNTDOWN

I have just seen the countdown
To Christmas.
Thirty eight days, six hours, thirty four minutes
And forty seven seconds...
Of course , it's less now
And will be every moment..
Why count the days
So fervently, so expectantly...?
Why put such pressure before
Limited brains...
Money must be spent-
Presents, food, clothes.
Many will be paying back
For many months to come
And all for a day
A day when we remember,
Or do we,
A little baby's  birth.

Day Off

I Don't Want To Go To School

That feeling from the night before,

Which I was hoping would be gone,

Was to my great annoyance

With me still, and I was wrong.

So, I called to mum and said to her,

I can’t get up today,

I feel too ill to go to school,

In my duvet I will stay.

She said here have a tablet,

Maybe you’ll feel fine

And up you get out of that bed,

There’s not much time,

For you to get ready to get the bus,

Come on now,

Stop making a fuss.

But I couldn’t move at all from my bed,

As dizzy feelings swirled in my head.

But mum persisted so I sat up

And as I did, I got sick in the cup,

That mum had given me water in

And as mum wiped the sick from my chin

She decided the best place for me was my bed after all,

She left me there, where I slept until nightfall