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Poetry

Barbara Sampson

21 October 2009

Finding the place where peace is found.doc

 

Rebecca Wright

poems.doc

 

Bronwyn Williams

Expectant Prayer.pdf

Foot Washing.pdf

Holiness is on the Cards.pdf

Key.pdf

Prevenient Grace.pdf

Where is God in the World.pdf

 

Heidi Steep

Rara picture poems.pdf

Comments

  1. so glad this is up and running...am looking forward to this being a very creative forum with good feedback.

  2. Some short little poems inspired by the 'senses of worship' workshop with Janet Munn.

    Silhouette
    To look upon your holiness
    until the imprint of the cross
    is left in my sight.
    Those white lines meaningless in shape- meaning in the sacrifice.
    The supernatural cloaking my natural
    My physical touching the metaphysical

    I close my eyes
    and in the darkness,
    the silhouetted love is all I see.


    Hands
    I nailed him there.
    With my hands pierced his.
    Stains of love over his palms.
    My signature on his back.



    Here is a poem based on Comissioner Bond's sermon on the sunday of Brengle. She spoke briefly on recieving compliments and imaginging them as crowns.

    Crowns
    She gave me a crown today.
    She propped it on my head.
    As much as I pretend I don’t want it
    I take it in the end.

    I always give them away.
    I prop up people too.
    Even when I don’t mean it.
    I shouldn’t, but I do.
    Awkward crowns, crowns to fill the silence, a crown clothed in green…

    But today I received a crown
    Of smiles and honesty.
    I took it from her hands and accepted joyfully.
    But this evening I understand,
    Where this crown belongs.
    At the feet of my father.
    At the foot of the cross.

  3. Hey Rebecca....loved the line "my signature on his back"...very powerful. Thanks.

  4. thank you Barbara...how often we find ourselves in those situations that we do not and cannot understand.

  5. Bron Williams
    Bron Williams

    Hey Heidi...lovely to read your work...always fresh and inviting. So good to revisit the Holiness poem...that was a great week...and the clacking of your typewriter was a joy!

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