Just believe

 

It always seems when you're feeling off song

that you can't do right for doing wrong

that life won't go your way today

and fortune never comes your way.

 

Whatever you touch just turns to dust

the tears you cry just turn to rust

you shout but you are never heard

you're brave but you are always scared.

 

The whole of your mind is ill at ease

you just can't see the wood for the trees

you run your life living on fear

you don't even care for those you hold dear.

 

But when you hit that all time low

a time that only you will know

you have the chance to turn it round

to live again through the hope you've found.

 

A new life dawns, what's done is done

feel the warmth of the morning sun

see the flowers, the birds in the trees

feel the change on the summer breeze.

 

Embrace the happiness and love you find

leave all your worries and fears behind

live the dreams you could never conceive

you can have it all if you just believe.

 

Copyright 2008 Jeff Dawson

 

More poetry by Jeff can be found at the following website www.writeoutloud.net - poets showcase/jeffarama

Holy Week Meditations.

 

This year during Holy Week there was an evening of poetry and meditation which unfortunately I couldn't attend.  Sheila kindly asked to read this poem and others have asked for it to be in the magazine again.  Maybe a paragraph about how it came to be written would also be of interest.

 

It was Good Friday 2001, and I was on retreat, savouring the silence of the day.  Sudden squawking of  the  house hens interrupted my thoughts while I told them they should be better behaved on such a holy day.   Later, in the chapel, we all listened to the insistent piping of resident great tits, and at that point I began to wonder.  What happened to the birds during the hours of darkness that first Good Friday?  The previous year we had all 'seen' a partial eclipse.  One of the noticeable things about it had been the activities of the birds, changing rapidly from daytime to roosting behaviour.  Even their singing changed.  With these thoughts in mind this poem began to emerge.  I had no idea how it would end at that stage so when the last line seemed to write itself I was as surprised as anyone else reading it.......

 

Good Friday Requiem

 

Did birds keep silence when he died?

As the sun hid her light

and friends lost hope in life,

did birds keep silence?

 

Or did sparrows chatter when flying by?

Could their comfortable chirping

have softened raucous jeering?

Did sparrows chatter?

 

Did swallows swoop as he hung in pain?

Could their wings have fanned a breeze

to caress his tortured face?

Did swallows swoop?

 

Did doves coo as Mary watched -

their song embracing Son and Mother

when they could not hold each other?

Did doves coo?

 

Then had all sung their evening roosting songs,

a requiem to a passing Life,

the end of Day; the start of Night;

not knowing they were practising for Easter?                                                                             

Joy Pope

 

Editor’s note: There was no room for this article in last month’s magazine, so article is published now.

Situation Vacant

The position of Treasurer for the Magazine account is vacant. Please contact David Morlidge for more information on 01204 840448

 

Urgently required people to learn how to bell ring. Practice night Fridays 7.00p.m. to 9.00p.m. Just turn up to the hobby that makes new friends and keeps you fit without the expense of a gym fee.

 

Items wanted

Wooden coat hangers urgently required. Contact David Morlidge 01204 840448

 

Wanted for Parish Newsletter.

Items about “My Favourite Place” and “An Unforgettable Holiday” or “Bolton - likes and dislikes”. Forward to the Editor, Parish Newsletter, Parish Hall, Silverwell Street, Bolton, BL1 1PS.