Were you there
when they laid palms at
His feet
and praises filled
the air?
Did you feel the loss
when they crowned Him
then hung Him on
a cross?
Did you here
them jeer
when He cried
Eloi Eloi
in loneliness
and fear?
Did you feel
the pain
when the Son of love
was slain?
Is there a greater gift
than this?
is there a greater love
than His?
That on a dark and
fateful day
a saviour came
and took our
sins away.
A man walks in heat of day and frozen nightt.
Driven by love, a lone man walks through desert dust. In the heat of day and frozen night.
No one knows where he wanders. In heat of day and frozen night.
Thirst swells his tongue and it sticks to his mouth. In heat of day and frozen night.
Hunger bites him and he dreams of food. In heat of day and frozen night.
He is so famished. He can taste the food he dreams of. In heat of day and frozen night.
Hot stones burn his feet in heat of day and cold of night.
The night cold digs deep. In heat of day and frozen of night.
At last, he stops too tired to go on. In heat of day and frozen night.
Now the enemy came to torment him. In heat of day and frozen night.
Offering freedom from hunger and thirst. In heat of day and frozen night.
Tempting him wth power and all a man could dream of. In Heat of day and frozen night.
In spite of his suffering he overcame and stood the test. In forty days and forty nights.,
This was written for a young girl who was bullied.
I make no apology.
This could be sung or said to any tune you choose.
There once was a troll, a sad little troll
That lived in a hole in the ground.
Its nose was long, its ears were floppy
And its backside dragged on the ground.
Chorus
Oh you sad little troll.
You silly little troll.
You naughty little troll,
Go back to your hole in the ground.
With its beady little eye
It would see if it could spy.
Any mischief it could make.
While it hid in its hole in the ground.
Chorus.: Oh you sad etc.
Its bum would get smelly
And wobble like jelly,
when it found a victim to pick on.
It would gleefully snigger
At people much bigger
As it hid in its hole in the ground.
Chorus: Oh you sad etc
But it knew in its heart
That it would never be part
Of the love that lives all around.
while it hid in its hole in the ground
Chorus: Oh you sad.
In its lonely little nest
It never could rest
In case it would ever be found
As it hid in its hole in the ground.
Chorus: Oh you sad.
So be kind to your sad little troll
As it lies in its hole in the ground
It has no one to love it
And no hope to help it
As it hides in its hole in the ground.
W.R. Turner
To the child who was bullied. listen to the people who love you. Those others are a waste of space. they’re just smelly bums. B.
with the sound of angels singing.
The heavenly host rejoicing.
At the victory that is bringing
home a sinner.
The gift of life for fallen sheep.
When sin so dark makes angels weep.
That breaks the hearts of those who keep
a watch on every sinner.
Now all heaven rejoices,
at the sound of angel voices
singing praises to the shepherd
who with His life erases
all the dark that
destroys a sinner.
From the depths the broken hearted
sinner rises,
and joyous angels raise their voices
at a wrong that has been righted.
and a sinner has repented.
W. R. Turner.
From Luke 15 v 7.
letter to church mouse poem
reply to poem by John betjamine
11.00 $
N.B This was written long before the ordination of women was thought possible. There is a reference to a vicar wearing a frock. This refers to a man in a cassock. there is no offence intended, I hope there is none taken.
Small mouse, you wee timorous creature
who lives within the house of our Creator
in dark and forgotten places,
where we humans rarely go.
Who hides behind long discarded hassocks
And sleeps on old and grubby cassocks.
think on us who stand outside
who rarely dare to step inside,
where only the good may go.
It’s true it must be said
That we will sometimes enter in,
Or to wet the baby’s head,
Or, on occasion, when one of us is dead.
But we rarely dare to stay there among
the graves of long forgotten Knights.
Where statues of old men in tights,
Look down with disapproving eye,
as we try
to follow some ancient liturgy,
and wonder why the vicars got a frock on.
Tell us what to do
and when to stand and when to sit,
do we sing the anthem bit.
or is that just the choir?
Will we be consumed by heavenly fire
when a cold deadly stare
Tells us we are sitting in someones chair?
Good mouse we would gladly sing our Saviours praise.
But we are told we have to know our place.
What is that place, and where?
And are we really welcome there?
Good friend eat your fill of festive food.
Think of us and eat with a will.
eat it all, eat the tower
and the steeple.
Eat it all, but save the people.
W.R.Turner.
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