Monday, December 29, 2008

Happy Birthday Elsie

Elsie, you were our Christmas baby,
a gift from God, delightfully unexpected.

Eleven days late
You waited till Christmas was come and gone,
Your birthday overshadowed by His.

But once you were with us
You charmed your way into the centre of our hearts,
Impishly demanding our attention,
With your own brand of irresistible grace.

May it always be that way for you -
Outshone by no one
But gloriously overshadowed
by Christ.

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Monday, November 10, 2008

On a bench one Sunday

You sit on a bench,
head forward, brow furrowed
Listening to angry words,
that have made me
want to scuttle away
like a little ant.

But you, my darling,
are brave and kind.
So you wait with a firm presence,
listening,
to scrambled sentences
from a troubled mind.

I watch you,
and my heart sees
one "whom having not seen, I love",
And I love you even more.

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Sparkly girl

You run inside with shining eyes
petals in your hands,
thrusting them towards me
like precious jewels,
with words of kindness
lightening my tired heart.

My sparkly, sparkly girl
If God wills it,
you'll grow and change-
Your chubby cheeks will thin,
you'll feel the grate of circumstance.

But don't let your eyes fade.
Shine your smile
like a Spring full of petals.
And let your kind words
soften wrinkled faces
forever.

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To a six year old, on his birthday

My boy -
This morning I watched you run to class.
Feet tripping over each other,
Backpack bouncing awkwardly,
turning every few urgent steps
to wave goodbye,
your words carried off by the wind.

Tomorrow you'll be six.
The years rush by
faster than your rushing feet.
And I lose my breath,
winded by the realisation
that this goodbye
is just a practice run.

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Holiday, April 2001


They walked along the beach, just the two of them;
White sand squeaking underfoot,
The turquoise water as flat as cellophane.
But in her ears, waves were pounding,
And her eyes were dull as lead.

In the night, in blue, shiny shadows,
She lay there, haunted by the ghosts of hopes,
Imagining a tiny, warm body not there,
Feeling the cold emptiness in her arms;
Looking at him across the black gulf of grief
Washing up between them

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About This Blog

This is my blog where I publish my poetry. I write another blog called 168 hours, where I write about the rest of my life.

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