A Selection of Poems 

                                                                               SPRINGTIME

The daffodil, the crocus,

The snowdrop shy and white,

All heralds of the Springtime

As earth moves from winter's night;

So quietly they've been growing

Beneath the frozen sod,

But now they're shoots appearing

Bravely point our thoughts to God.

 

Has life seemed dark and frozen?

Have the days been long and drear?

Has hope been sometimes fading

In the ice-cold grip of fear?

Take heart, your soul's been growing

Beneath the chastening rod

And soon new life emerging

Will point others up to God.

                                                                                    Pam Worsey

 

SUNSHINE AND SHOWERS

Does He send you sunshine?  
Then enjoy it's warmth and light.  
Or maybe storms surround you  
And all seems darkest night.  
Whatever God allows to come  
Will grace your earthly life,  
For always it is tempered  
As He wields His surgeon's knife.


Are you feeling lonesome,  
Maybe suffering or in pain?  
Then lift your thoughts to Jesus  
He will strengthen you again.  
Remember how He's been with you  
Along life's varied way?  
Well He will ne'er desert you  
But He'll turn your night to day.


Do you want to rise now  
Soar
above your care and woe  
Well open up to Jesus  
Let His Holy Spirit flow;  
He'll fill your life with hope and joy  
Give blessings from above  
As you yield yourself completely 
    
To the One Who's Name is Love.  

                                                                                           Pam Worsey       

 

WOOD SORREL

  Late May, the day after Trinity, and a fine clear evening after rain;  

I am walking the old path the miners walked  

down from the high places and into the dark wood.

The peat springs back beneath my feet,

the amber sun lifts my heart,

and I have seen the valley through buzzard’s eyes

atop those jumbled rocks.

Now my boots are treading down between the larches,

and I brush against the berrywhin

as I make for the road and home.

Suddenly, where the path turns almost back upon itself

the woodland floor has become the night sky

so studded with stars it takes my breath away.

Closer. I see there are hundreds of flowers each one single and alone:

the white and delicate sorrel has taken sole charge here,

and every flower is love lit amid the darkness,

every threefold leaf a hymn to God.      

                                                                                         Bill Rowell,  June 2002

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