There is an aching in the deep centre of being,That calls out to a homeland at some dark distant place.In child like hope we searchbeyond the blue horizon,for a Netherland Peter Pan landscape.In our mind this hope lingerswhere once a child was abandoned,sand castles are washed awayby the ancient tides,where the souls of old salty […]
Aching for the season of loves memory Read More »
On a hilltop, the Suffolk laborer works the harvest without a question why?The rich man’s children walk over the unmarked graves of plague families. A storybook picture on a pure unadulterated English landscape, I am just believing, I am the picture. “Stuff that dreams are made on”, flesh built on bones of sin with no
A time out of mind Read More »
I see a chapel in the wilderness, it stood untouched through the torturous thunder of Passchendaele, and can be seen with more than eyes, when Hell visits this world’s chaos. When men set their feet on laborious ways of war, and conceive tyrant dreams, dreams that are always imposed on others, the Chapel appears……. The
The Chapel in the Wilderness Read More »
For the love of God and people like me “Christ is the head of the home, the unseen guest of every meal, the silent listener to every conversation.” The above lines used to hang on the wall in the old vicarage living room, in days of simplicity. I haven’t seen that quote anywhere recently, and
“The unseen guest” Read More »
In the sea of grief I see the lone soldiers full of bloodless hope.They walk a vast array of spirit fields where human ruin faces fragile mirrors.There is a place beyond tears and solitary rain. Oh my friends never let the theatre of human endeavour fool you into thinkingyou can trust! “Love hide thy face!”
Weeping that does not touch Read More »
That day 1964, you the dreaming wordsmith, you said our dreams were ‘33lights to the wind’, We spent years believing that the sunset had red sails, now that old sea still rolls,but you are no longer here to light up the time with wonder, wonderful you fullof dreams and young heart starlight imaginings and sunset
33 lights to the wind Read More »
(Hope stings eternal) There is a place where groping things go about their programmed lust for survival. I once saw a dark corner where I, doped with fear, tried not to look but, compulsions angels forced me. There is a place where even shadows hide their shame, and they out-live everything! The prisoners of Priory
Where shadows hide Read More »
“All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players” So wrote the great Bard. Humankind want to build utopias where God seems not to care, so we lie to each other, spend thousands on medical insurance trying to avoid deaths honesty. Chemical smoke, mushroom clouds tangled in the folly of trust,
Ted and Dave were two farm labourers I worked with in 1967. They worked the Suffolk fields all their lives. The one thing that seemed never to happen was conversation. They would meet on the *Beet fields at six in the morning with their hoes, grunt at each other and start work. As a casual
Story told to me by, Roger Small, great songwriter, now disappeared. Maybe we should all take heed? NEVER PUT OFF TILL TOMORROW WHAT YOU CAN DO TODAY 7pm 9th November 1969: The street was silent that night, the 1960’s bells still ringing in my ears, We knew the dream was over. You said; “Why let
We’ll meet by the Chip shop in Marmaduke Street Read More »