‘With Christians, a poetical view of things is a duty. We are bid to colour all things with hues of faith, to see a divine meaning in every event’.

Cardinal Newman

A poem can say so much in just a few words. Many of us will have poetry we heard or read, possibly many years ago, but which we remember and maybe can still quote. A poem can cause us to look at life’s experiences in a different way. It can reflect our praise and worship in a fresh way. Just as the Holy Spirit inspired the Psalmists, may He inspire us to write words which, in turn, can inspire others.

Here are some of the many I have written over the years. Others will appear in the Facebook Group (use the link) and even short ones on the Twitter page (use the link for ‘Christ’s Body The Church’. Please email any poems you have written to be considered for inclusion.




Now, overtures are silent.
The wait goes on
For the final overcoming.
Evil exudes encouragement,
Believing it has control,
Half-knowing there will be
A bitter end.
Recoiling at the thought
That truth and love
Will finally overcome,



You lead me on to where I need to go,
Sometimes squealing, for my freedom You resign
To let me have my way. And so I grow,
Through painful understanding. Your design
Is to produce perfection. Not here and now,
But in the life to come I will receive
A full explanation, that with the vow
I made to follow You. Those words 'I believe',
Set in motion a process, which, though painful,
Will matter to me when the race is run.
And through the honing process I will gain full
Pardon, when I kneel before the Son.



Now the plaintive Christmas choirs
Lend their sound to receptive ears,
As the festive season returns.
Christ the babe echoes throughout -
Yet many ears are deaf to the message -
Minds encumbered with what needs
To be done, to survive
The pressing celebrations.
If only we could really see,
Hear and smell the stable,
Feel the cold of a winter's night,
Sense the ache in Joseph's limbs,
Know the doubts in Mary's mind.
Surely - not here -
In this rat-infested place -
The Son of God?



Why, why, how many times
Have we asked why?

When the birds sing,
The river runs steady in its path,
Why does life simply pass us by?

Where, where, how often lost,
Do we cry where?

When the paths conflict,
Confuse our state of mind,
We wander aimlessly never crying - there!

Who, who, always blaming someone,
But who knows who?

What is the meaning of the puzzle?
Fact or fiction never rhymes -
Accusations plenty, answers few.

When, when, how long must we wait
Before the when?

Travellers all,
With little thought of destination,
Only that we could hope to live again.



Confidence falters at this time of day.
We wonder whether we will overcome?
Overall the feeling is tense and glum,
To see an ending seems a long long way.

Appears we have forgotten how to pray.
Science should deliver all the sums?
Confidence falters at this time of day.
We wonder whether we will overcome?

Perhaps it will be different today,
But no, the figures only leave us dumb.
Has anyone considered Christ may come?
Ridiculous the thought is what we say.
Confidence falters at this time of day.
We wonder whether we will over come?



The murmur of what might have been,
Has now begun to fade.
The sound of all those people lost,
Within the ground now laid.

Listen to the hue and cry,
Could we have done much more?
The world's agenda is unseen.
Note, what has gone before.

The making of this rare disease
Is in the life we chose,
Turning from the Father's Son
Who lived, who died, who rose.