Welcome to God’s eye

Dwell inside your heart and breathe just so
From there your spirit body can outflow
Spread this round your loved one like a shawl
No need to make a sound for love will call

Two are one like lovers in their bed
But now one has to leave, love cuts the thread
In full silence welcomed by God’s eye
They concentrate on this before they die

In your gracious warmth they’re feeling safe
As a child is in a mother’s gaze
Time no longer matters. we’re elsewhere
Walking humbly ,softly through God’s stare

At last the work is done and they are free
Who can understand such mystery?

To find true rest

Feeling strained,thoughts all a-riot,
I feel unable to be quiet.
I feel tense,I can’t sit down..
My eyes glare out and how I frown!

I talk too fast,I lack patience
I lose touch with my common sense.
To follow instructions from a guide
Seems harder when my mind is tired.

I discovered once that deep inside.
Peace and stillness still abide.
To find that place we each must be
Desireless, till at last we see.

Deep ,deep down there is true rest
And warmly there our souls are blessed.
All we have to do is wait
To get in touch with this dear state.

We share affinity with trees,
With flowers,cats, bats and bumble bees.
Let all thought and controls go.
Let this,the mind, become more slow,

Perception’s better when we’re still
Emptied of desire and will;
Deep inside a melody
stirs our hearts and sets them free.

A pain in the leg

LAs Mary ate her Weetabix, she felt a pain in her left leg rather like a toothache gone astray
Emile, what are you doing?
Emile crawled out looking dusty. And he had just had a bath.
I was trying to bite the hairs off your leg, he miaowed plaintively
There are no hairs on my leg, she whispered. Oh, dear,I must have walked into a cobweb
I wish Stan had got a cobweb brush, she muttered tp herself
But do we really need a different brush for everything? Soon we will have one for each tooth. That will be expensive
She felt in her pocket for her Tablet. She wanted to draw a diagram of her brush cupboard using an Android App. But her pocket was empty
The back door opened and in ran Annie wearing a yellow nightdress and matching slippers
Hello, she cried. I wanted to catch you before 9 am
Why, asked Mary?
The postman will be here by then. He has got a parcel for me. But I put your address.
What is the point of secrecy when you live alone? You have no man to question your expenses, have you? Nor a woman either
Well, Emile might ask me to explain.
Just because Emile is male it does not give him the right to tell you what to do
All my life I have obeyed men, Annie cried
Yes, after you have manipulated, seduced and terrified them
That is very cruel. I was only trying to help them.
Well, you may have done, but why not help yourself?
How can I do that?
Tune into your body and see what comes to mind
Beetroot, Annie responded.
So you must need them, get dressed and we will go to the greengrocers
You have got very bossy, said Annie. Did you have a nightmare?
It was more like a night-tiger, Mary revealed. Something bit my foot and it hurt
Oh, mother , cried Emile, it was me!
You, Emile. What made you do that, she said angrily?
It was in my way as I crawled under the duvet, the cat whispered.
Surely you could have gone further down.
I wanted to see what you tasted like!
That is evil, not to say perverted, Mary told him. I shall take you for therapy or would Confession be better? Is it a compulsion you cannot help or is it a sin?
Annie was silent. She did not like questions nor any kind of prolonged thought
Don’t ask me, she finally said. Maybe Emile needs a man in the house.
I don’t want any more men, Mary said sadly. They seem to die
Well, Stan was 128 years old. Annie informed her.I saw his birth certificate once. Unless it was 12.8 years
Don’t be so ridiculous. How could he have been 12.8 years old?
It must be a miracle, said Annie. Tell the Pope and he might be declared a saint soon
St Stan of Knittingham, Patron Saint of Almost Adolescents.
The bell rang. In ran Dave.
He was dressed in navy.
I am ready to take you to Church, he told the ladies
To church? I’d rather go to Wigan Pier
Oh, the sea is not there on Sundays!
Is it there on the Sabbath, Annie muttered?
No, it’s not, Dave said quietly
Wow, two more miracles, she said as she fainted into the Pantry
How annoying, Mary said. I just classified the jam
Well, things could be worse, said Dave. She’s not broken any and cut herself
What, she falls and breaks nothing. She must be very light.
Yes, she is quite electric, he quipped
Whatever next? The marmalade!
And so ask all of us

Average household income, UK – Office for National Statistics


This is disposable income so I imagine it is before tax.

The average worker who does not exist take some 2,750 a month after tax etc. Is this is a family and only one adult is working full time

while one is an at home parent it is not an awful lot of money to live on. Survival needs may not be met for a lot of people who are earning less than this amount.

In the Sunday times today there is an article saying you need to earn at least 200,000 pounds a year before you live in enviable lifestyle.

When we bought our house in the 1970s during our first winter there we couldn’t afford to buy any new shoes.

The average disposable income now or last year was

£32,800 in the UK.

But when they ask for more money like the nurses and the teachers they are told their greedy loisy and hopelessly that it managing money.

And some people living on universal benefits our envious of people living on the state pension that I don’t think they realize that the state pension is linked to your national insurance contributions over a large number of years.

People living on benefits should not blame pensioners for taking all the money.£200 a week is not an awful lot to live on especially for those people paying rent. You might be paying £50 a week for your heating. Perhaps s the government should provide cookery lessons to tell us how to make meals from cheap ingredients like breast of lamb,tripe, lentils, shin of beef, bread.

The average reading age in this country is 9. 4 years. So if that’s a median average 50% of the population of a reading edge of less than 9.4 years and maybe unable to read the government’s recipe book, How to live on the breadline without dying

Oxford holy riddle

Gold stone from Cotswold quarries young men brought

And built into a way of life for those who bought

Their lives so cheaply,

And did not see

The children’s eyes,the ball,.the game ,the tree

Of life that grew in small backyards and gave all

To those who climbed into its arms.

Why should this not be you?

Oh,Eden,I see that you are nearer now

In lowly homes where love is free

Than in the temple, grove,and soft set brow

Of those who worship God in churches built of gold.

Now we must know that this is easy to behold

When sun is setting,and escapes the ashes

Thrown up and floating in the watches

Of the days of voter’e eyes cast up to skies

and,wondering fearful, what will come

when all the secret deals are done.

So take the gold of life and let it fall

Into your children’s growing souls

And let this Cotswold town and spires

Melt into sunset’s glowing orange fires.

Published by Katherine

No matter how we fail

I’ve got just one letter
written in your hand.
One small letter.
I understand,
One is as infinity
compared to having nought.
I’ll keep this letter
In the museum of my heart.
I’ve only got one photograph
and that is very old
but to me this photograph
is more valuable than gold.
Time has hastened by.
Is it now too late?
But may there be a second chance?
Let’s not accept love’s fate.
No matter how we falter,
No matter how we fail,
We can still forgive ourselves,
and rewrite this sad tale.
One more loving letter,
One more loving smile,
That will be sufficient
To revive a love grown frail.
For once this love was stronger;
Once this love was true;
Accept this invitation
To recreate our love anew