I walked for hours along the shore
On a gloriously sunny day,
From Rockanore to the pier and back
And twice around the town.
Fishermen on the end of the pier
Nodded a cheery salute,
Permitted my presence to watch their skill
With rod and line and bait.
I sat a while and watched them work,
Drinking in the sun,
Glimpsing the waves beneath my feet
Enjoying this winter seaside treat.
The sun broke down in a watery hazy
As it slowly sank to the sea
And I thanked the Lord for this sunny day
And the sea-shore healing scene.
copyright wordz2go January 2017
Hastings, Sussex, UK
I stood on holy ground,
Trod in the steps of early saints
Stood where the altar stood,
Marvelled at the rainbow arch
Stubbornly defeating the years,
And the harsh north eastern weather.
Mid-October with an icy wind
Keening across the site –
Picture the monks in open-toe sandals
Striding about, serving God
In a far-flung outpost of humanity
With just a single fire in the warming room
As a nod to bodily comforts.
The ghosts of the saints linger here
To welcome you
To what is still a house of God.
We may not praise in Latin
Yet we worship together
With all the saints above
And all the company of heaven;
They lead us still,
Their work not yet complete.
Crossing the causeway comfortably by car
I thought of them
Walking, carrying Cuthbert shoulder high
And doubted if I could have been
They believed and because they believed
I believe today,
Brought up in a faith established
Long ago on a small island
Set in the North Sea.
Lindisfarne: long may you continue to lead
The faithful here on earth
And in heaven.
Copyright wordz2Go Oct 2016
I’ve been to the NEC today
My legs are feeling knackered
My throat is dry, my feet are sore
I’m pretty cream crackered.
I want to get home now,
Put my feet up, have some tea,
But I’m stuck on a bus in a sea
of traffic, crawling along the M69,
ebbing tantalisingly close to where I need to be,
Yet the traffic flow is so damn slow,
I could walk home faster; If only I could master
The secret of getting off a moving bus without creating any fuss and just disappear silently, like Dynamo.
‘Where did you go?’ they’d say to me
And I’d just smile sweetly
And tweet from home beside my fire, happy as Larry
Home and free, with my cup of tea.
Copyright wordz2Go 15 November 2013