THE TROLL SONG

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.

Angel Voices

  • Come hear the halls of heaven ringing

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.

To the church mouse.c/o Sir John betjamine.

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.

Is it true

And is it true?

A stranger died for me?

  A man I never knew

gave his life for me?

What did I ever do?

That a stranger set me free

And saved a life like mine?

What grace is this

That loves a man like me

What gift is this that’s given

That gave new life to me?

What could I ever do

To pay the life I owe?

How do I thank him

A man I do not know ?

I can never earn the love i’m given

Or claim a place in heaven

The only thanks that I can give

Is to accept his gift with grace

and live a life of thankful praise.

W.R.Turner

the Trouble with Bananas

Have you ever had the feeling that you have one foot in the grave, and the other one on a banana skin?
the reason I ask is because there have been times in my life when I have had just that sensation. Most of my early life I was quite a healthy sort of bloke. I have had the odd trip to the hospital. Usually because I have done something stupid. Like tripping over the dogs lead with a milk bottle in my hand. The doctors had a great time digging a piece of glass out of my leg. Apart from idiotic tricks like that. I was fairly healthy.

I think the troubles began as I got older. As they usually do. A few years ago, I was diagnosed as having prostate cancer. I had what I suppose was the usual kind of treatment. Radio therapy and a series of injections. That was O.K. the problem was that I went through a period of very deep depression.

I hope I am not boring you with some sort of sob story. The fact is, that I wish to tell you how good my Heavenly Father is. Just because I am a Christian, that does not mean that I can expect to escape from the daily troubles and pains that people go through. I am a reader in the Church of England. That means I preach. I lead worship and visit people who are housebound. This is part of my duty, and privilege as a reader. The point is that, in spite of the cancer and the depression, My Heavenly Father has seen me through them. With the help and prayers of my wife and the good friends He has given me. And His spirit that helps me I was still given the grace and great privlege to carry on preaching and leading worship.

As you know I nave done some pretty daft things in my time. Some of the daftest are some of the posts I have written. I am quite embarrassed by them. A bit of editing might be in order. The thing is, that in spite of my errors. He is patient and kind. He will see me through these things.

I do not wish to burden you with sobs stories. I am not asking for sympathy. This is not about me, But about my Heavenky Fathers love. For example, this last year has been a bit of a problem. I have emphesemea. This means that you have to be careful about your lungs. So, just for fun I caught a nasty little lung infection. To add to the fun I had developed cateracts in both my eyes. So things were getting more and more difficult to see. On a lighter note. It was Christmas, and I was in church. The trouble was our church is quite dark. We need to get the lighting seen to. anyway, I was standing at one end of the church, and I could see these little red and silver lights. As I looked. They started to come towards me. As they came closer a friend of mine appeared. She was wearing a Christmassy jumper with a Christmas scene made of red and silver sequins. Just for a moment, I thought I had lost the plot.

I am happy to to say that I had operations to remove the cataracts. Unfortunately I have macular degeneration. It is really strange. I can now see distance, but I cannot see close up. It is odd because I can see the computer screen fairly well. Especially if I up the font. The trouble is I cannot see the keyboard. I need to get a magnifier. So if you see the odd letter out of place and the grammar is not as grammatical as it should be. I apologise.

The joy that I have found is that in spite of all that happens. My heavenly Father still continues to encourage me. He allows me the privilege of preaching and leading worship.
and. of course, visiting my lovely housebound friends.

And the banana? Well, if I do slip. Thanks to a God who loves me. I know where I am going.

Anyway, thanks for the chat. See you around.