PHRAISES with SPRAY

80 poems to encourage, in a strange way, those to whom they speak. The pain of life mixed with a stubborn hope and occasional humour. They frequently reveal a belief in God's desire to intervene. This PAPERBACK version includes a collection called SPRAY. In both collections Christian themes are mixed with poems about relationships, stages of life, freedom of thought, and pure whimsy.
Five poems to whet your appetite-

Sixty Second Poem
So what would You say in sixty seconds?
Sixty precious seconds.
Slipping through your fingers while you
try to tie your wayward thoughts
to taste a single byte.

And what if you knew they'd be recorded?
Famous sixty seconds!
Those words you chose remaining so
that all our world around us knew
the eccentric way you viewed.

And pray to God you'll get some warning:
Sixty wasted seconds.
Your precious time could die before
your thoughts became quite deep enough
to put them down as words.

But could you dare sum up life's passing
as fleeting life flies on;
changing as I speak? Will the
stilted you that today you choose,
tomorrow be truly you?

So while you take a minute's pause,
I'll show you how it's done.
I'm ready to let loose my thoughts,
so start a-counting now!
“I...” (Time's up!)

Am I Big or Small?
Please tell me if I'm big or small,
our planet moaned to me,
I've asked the Sun who had the gall
to say I'm Really wee!

And pockmarked Moon, the Earth went on,
stung by its cheesy nerve,
My closest pal sang out in song
“I love your tiny curve!”

At least you know about these things,
you who can leave my grasp:
You've sent weird junk past Saturn's rings
and joined your starry map.

So now my crowded, clever fleas
who share this present state
within my veil of air... O Please
admit I'm simply great!

For I know that I'm the choicest;
the brightest jewel of all,
and with your help my little pests
the universe seems small!


The Word of Life
The Word, the Word, the Word creates
and loves what words have made
within their image – to relate
with six day’s verse and phrase.

They gift, they gift, they gift a tongue
to let their image speak:
To name, and even re-arrange,
their good and perfect week.

It falls, she falls, he falls and twists
the words The Word had spoke.
Relationships, once close, now lost in mists.
Lies break. And words are broke.

I Am, I Am, I Am the truth
and nothing else endures.
How can we rescue fallen brutes?
Reform their curses’ mangled roots?
Re-write them – make them pure?

We will, You will, I will go down
to sift these broken words.
And in My song their nonsense sounds
like truth that’s sung by birds.

The Word, the Word, the Word creates
and loves what Love re-makes.
Restored – his image to relate –
clean-worded for his sake.

But lies, all lies, sad lies lie dead.
They cannot enter Truth.
And so they burn as words unread;
powerless, made harmless, mute.


Memory Lane
The Cheshire cat stares at your mind,
its grin begins to form.
It’s seen a place, the purrfect find,
in which to make its home.
Its tail shakes loose and disappears.
Its claws are sharp then gone.
It travels its voice from tongue to ear.
Its smile goes on and o…

I’m glad I meet these Cheshire cats
and take them mile on mile:
For as I face life’s harsher spats
they linger with their smile.


Praying
In silence I press my eyes
and wait, and wait
for your presence.

Palms open, I let pain go
in sobs and sighs
of repentance.

And breathing, I feel again
warmth and warming,
rising, falling.

Rekindled: My faith reborn;
I rise, and rising,
face this dawn.