The Holy Land is not so holy now Was it so when Christ hung from the Cross When Romans burned the temple ,killed the Jews? The Holy Land is not so holy now The truth depends on where we stand to view New perspectives offer wisdom too See the holy face now white with frost The Holy Land is not so holy now Even as Christ sags on Roman Cross
Freed from her trap Bird soared into air and hovered, And floated, resting; And flew higher, singing as she flew, And higher again, Till there was only her song, Left in the silence, Trembling.
Up on the high, wide, stump topped hill, I felt the lark inside my heart And heard her singing. And flying up with her, I saw gold sun and silver moon, Moors of heather and sheep grazing. Green hills, And shimmering lakes, Clouds, sun and sky in watery mirrors. And sang, and dipped and dropped, And curled Up the blue Bright heaven, and rested On the wind. All that day I was a lark singing.
I shall always have a vision of A bird That flew upwards, Rejoicing and free Into a deep blue sky, and high And higher Beyond high Into a place, beyond eye even, But music still sending.
I wish I were back on that heathery moor, With the nibbling sheep and the bees sweetly humming, Hearing again The poignant song Of the skylark; A prisoner, freed , From her trap, So happy to be free So wonderful to see, Just let it all be
At one time ,after I had had an operation on my eye which took a year to recover from I took up knitting.I’m not quick at it.I was making a shawl which had the increase in stitches in the centre as above.This made the two halves drape differently At the heggining there are only 3 stitches.Then there are 5,7,9”’……………….111.113………… Sometimes I found it hard to know where the middle was.I had to count all these stitches on their circular needle.As you can imagine this took concentration.One evening I was doing this and my husband asked me a question when I got to 99 I answered than began again.This went on until I had tried 4 times. So I politely informed him that he should look at me.If I was knitting he could speak But if I was counting he should wait The shawl was lovely and I gave it to a Czech student who visited us
Later I was telling a friend about this & she said I should have shouted at my husband and said I was very angry with him Now I don’t know, but as we didn’t go in for shouting he would have been shocked.When he got diabetes he sometimes got angry… it was low blood sugar. I solved that.
I suppose there is no right answer but if I get angry I get distressed myself.When dealing with older people or people with health problems it’s usually better to keep calm
That was tough when he thought I was his mother before he died owing to a UTI He seemed so happy I was his mother for 3 days and then I was his wife again He surely did love his mother!But he loved me too.
Now it is alleged that Boris Johnson has asked a Conservative donor to pay the childcare cost of his baby Wilfred. Along with the redecoration of the flat,it seems there’s no end to his greed. Or maybe Carrie asked him to share the childcare with her? He has no record of looking after babies despite having about six with his wife and others Perhaps he could take a year out on paternity leave.By then he could be old enough to retire Then we’d have more horror.Who can take over? Don’t answer
I wanted you to live until the summer came The warmth the sun, the flowering of the shrubs I wanted you here near me in our home I wanted you to live until the summer came You loved to be outside in summer rain May was very dull and wet at home I loved you then, I love you now, I love I wanted you to live until the summer came The warmth, the sun, the flowering of the shrubs
As music went and silence overwhelmed As in deep despair, I thought to end When nothing seemed to help me on on my way Perhaps I’d lost the track and so must pay
Empty now of thought and of desire The horror of the darkness without fire The utter loss of any help at all From the depths, my heart cried out appalled Expecting nothing, hoping even less A fire of gold appeared to hold,caress And tears rained down my face from eyes amazed While in my flesh I felt caressed and saved I bowed my head in assent to this good The crucified, the lost, have understood
Why does grief rise up like a huge wave Unexpected,unprepared for too When your loved one”s long gone to the grave Why does grief rise up like a huge wave As if a store of energy’s been saved For tears that overwhelm, can’t hide from view Why does grief return like a huge wave Unexpected,unprepared for too?
The poor can’t take this lockdown for too long. They have no back gardens, no birdsong Their bed rooms shared, or they have none at all No privacy, no silence, it appalls I hear them talked about in cruel ways “They go into McDonalds every day” Would you cook your meals in red wine bathed If you had only got a microwave? They can’t keep warm in winter in their homes McDonald’s is a luxury they earn Clean and neat with heating and hot drinks They sit and look at me , like I’m the Sphinx The average reading age in Britain’s nine They can’t read Boris’ letter, that’s malign