Day 20 - The Transfiguration

20th Oct 2019

The Transfiguration

It was strange that day.
He took just the three of us with Him,
Peter, James and myself,
Up the mountain to pray.
We chatted as we followed,
What did He mean some of us would 
Not taste death before seeing the
Kingdom of God.
At the top of the mountain
He stopped to pray
All of a sudden
His face, His clothes became white, luminous
Shining like the sun.
We'd never seen anything like it.
Our eyes fixed on Him
Two men appeared, prophets,
Talking to Him - Moses, Elijah.
We, ordinary men, just fell
fell to our knees
in the presence of God's Glory
Then Peter, excited, exuberant, spoke,
He wanted desperately to stay in this moment
Make three tents, he said.
At that moment a cloud came and covered us
The hairs of our heads stood up
A voice from the cloud.
"This is my Son, the chosen one,
Listen to Him"
We could not speak
Peace came over us

Day 15 - Mother May I

15th Oct 2019



Day 15, of OctPoWriMo 2019

What a challenge this is. Nearly half way there. Will I make it ??? I don't know but I will try.
Prompt today - Mother May I ...

Mother May I

Mother may I sit with you 

like I used to do before

Listen to your warm soft voice

telling of days of yore

Drink some tea out of china cups

best that way you say

eat your brackbread spread with  butter

thick on top it lay

Mother may I tell you things that 

meant a lot to me

Things we never talked about and 

Now can never  be 

How hurt I was by all the times you 

criticized my life

how every time your hateful words cut 

through me like a knife

I know you thought yourself so kind

kindness was your thing

But for me and mine you always chose 

a meaner song to sing

And now you're gone and it's too late

to rectify the wrong

I wish I'd had the courage then,  to 

stand up tall and strong

The Music of Life

11th April 2018

As the noise in the church hall buzzed around us while we prepared dinner for fifty, with the accompaniment of clattering pans and tinkling glasses and happy laughter, i was reminded that this time last year I was just getting over a problem I'd had with my hearing. It's interesting how much you notice different sounds and appreciate them when you've been struggling to make sense of the world whilst "locked in" your own quiet space. It's earily isolating. It has given me an empathy with those like some of the people we served today who suffer so much with hearing loss.
Last year I wrote a poem about it:


9th April :
For a few months I have been troubled with poor hearing. It was probably wax and has since cleared up - well almost. Whilst not being able to hear that well I discovered how much I value ( or should value) that particular sense.

The Music of Life

It occurs to me to be thankful 
That I can hear those particular sounds.
His soft voice -  a whisper,
"Are you awake?"
Delicate singing of birds greeting 
The day.
Welcome sound of water running 
In the kitchen,
Kettle boiling,
Cups clattering,
Tinkling of spoon,
Music playing - radio 2, 
Soft steps on the stair,
When he  brings the tray
With morning tea.

Buzz of bee circling the garden,
Water bubbling in pond 
Disturbed by fish.
Engine of aeroplane 
In distant blue.
Revving of neighbours car
Like clockwork.
Fluttering sound of trees 
Rustling leaves in breeze.
Shrieks of joy from children 
Two gardens down.
And the doorbell ringing
Calling me urgently 
To come and answer 

For all the above 
And much, much, more,
I am so thankful

Octpowrimo 22, 23 and 24

26th Oct 2017

The prompt for the 22nd Oct:

Purposeful Passion

You Are

When you are gone I close my eyes, I close my eyes and think of you.

My inmost substance sees you there, encounters your presence.

You are  -  the light that brightens my gloom.

When I think of you I cannot breathe, mysterious shivers cascade through me,

I tremble at your touch, am caught in your embrace, a warm flame rests within me,  I want to stay

You are  -  the Place I want to be.

I taste your words, wondrous sweet, relish every morsel, true delight, honey from the bee,

You are  -  the only sustenance for me.

I hear your gentle voice, wisdom whispering love, words I long to secrete,

Somewhere in my memory to be retrieved at times like this,

You are  -  music to my ears,

The echo of my dreams,  murmurings that comfort me.

Prompt for 23rd Oct:

What is the Message

It was too late 

She was too late

If she'd come sooner maybe she would now 

know what he wanted to tell her

she kisses the cold forehead 

wipes it dry of tears

he waited for hours they said 

but death came for him 

in the dark of night 

he wanted to speak with you they said

no one else would do

what was the message she thought 

did no one know but you

Prompt for 24th Oct:

When Lovers Meet

She just a girl bringing in the sheep

He the new neighbour son of the vet

Her - hair greasy, complexion hidden in sweat and dirt

Him- bumbling along, first time sent to help with the lambing

She, sat waiting patiently a problem  with a mother

He, glanced down and in that moment loved her

She met his gaze and heart racing returned the thought 

He in that unspoken look knew he'd found the one   

Night

Well, I  haven't posted for a while as I've been busy. A holiday in sunny climes and visits from family when we came back, has kept me away from my words. However, I did take a couple of hours out yesterday to go to a Poetry for Wellbeing workshop, which was like watering the dry desert - I really enjoyed it.
So, Just to say that the visits to my blog have reached the amazing number of 17,000 - can you believe that - I hardly can myself.

Night

 Again I am there,

After the work of the day is over,

The body, tired, waits for the rest of the

Living death of sleep.

The sun put out like a candle,

The moon too shy to make an appearance

Hides  behind dark clouds

I lay in the soft comfort of friendly sheets

Trying to avoid those busy 

Dance halls, those bars - bustling,

Where I get crushed , bruised broken...

With the energy of that blessed shadow time

I move closer to the river,

With the moon reflected,

My laughter loud , 

As I leave behind, those chains,

For others to skip around ,

If they will,

For others to fall over,

If they must.

But for me, the peace, the silence, the moon,

Only my own voice to interrupt the calm