Jun 2016
'. If anyone competes as an Athlete he does not receive the victors crown unless he competes
according to the rules 2 Timothy ch 2 v 5
I watched from the hallway of 19 Cimla Creasant ,my Gran with her Bible praying by herself .
Just Gran and God , her daily act of obedience unto thee.
' Call yourself a Christian ? '. My Grans rebuke of some mischevious deed ,
For all I knew were scorcher comics and superman books , and sooty and sweep
Squashed in a cupboard .
Yet Gran has her victors Crown her wreath of golden bronze , She ran her race with Gods
Good grace , and at last seen Christ face to face ' well done my good and faithful servant . '
Green shield stamps coop books , ham salads and cups of tea .
To look out over skewin and see the night lights shine as if just for me .
Then there was rusty the dog , and the odd 50 p from Aunty Jane in our grateful hands
For an Ice cream for being good as gold ,
We would listen for the coo coo bird on the hour and like trumpton take a bow .
My Grandads shed where My Father as boy would hammer nails on wooden floor ,
And the scarey cracked old mirror at the very back of the wooden floors.
Of walks to Opels for fish and Chips with white wet hanky at hand .
Sudden stops , just to listen to her grand children talk and walk down the Cimla again .
Jesus Christ has risen today , Gran took us to her church one Easter
To sit in pews and sing nice hymns , to smile and be polite ,
no Barlymagrew as yet I knew Cuthbert Dibble doubt.
To the knoll we walked ,past river stream , and woodland ,
A cross was marked in some rock along the way ,
Is this where Jesus died , was crucified , hung up on a tree ?
The book I read on mothers stairs this man in comic strip ,
When i was 10 years old ,
The same man who died for me torchered on a tree .
Would it be tie a yellow ribbon , or the ****** red Barron from Germany ?
We used to pray in Chennestone hands up all to see
a peek to see who's looking
We listened to Griegs Morning , and sung there's no discouragement to be a Pilgrim .
Then one day God came calling on the Isle of Wight.
On Covie camp on blended knee i opened my heart to thee .
Oh the lion may roar from time to time ,
Gods grace is still enough for me
according to the rules 2 Timothy ch 2 v 5
I watched from the hallway of 19 Cimla Creasant ,my Gran with her Bible praying by herself .
Just Gran and God , her daily act of obedience unto thee.
' Call yourself a Christian ? '. My Grans rebuke of some mischevious deed ,
For all I knew were scorcher comics and superman books , and sooty and sweep
Squashed in a cupboard .
Yet Gran has her victors Crown her wreath of golden bronze , She ran her race with Gods
Good grace , and at last seen Christ face to face ' well done my good and faithful servant . '
Green shield stamps coop books , ham salads and cups of tea .
To look out over skewin and see the night lights shine as if just for me .
Then there was rusty the dog , and the odd 50 p from Aunty Jane in our grateful hands
For an Ice cream for being good as gold ,
We would listen for the coo coo bird on the hour and like trumpton take a bow .
My Grandads shed where My Father as boy would hammer nails on wooden floor ,
And the scarey cracked old mirror at the very back of the wooden floors.
Of walks to Opels for fish and Chips with white wet hanky at hand .
Sudden stops , just to listen to her grand children talk and walk down the Cimla again .
Jesus Christ has risen today , Gran took us to her church one Easter
To sit in pews and sing nice hymns , to smile and be polite ,
no Barlymagrew as yet I knew Cuthbert Dibble doubt.
To the knoll we walked ,past river stream , and woodland ,
A cross was marked in some rock along the way ,
Is this where Jesus died , was crucified , hung up on a tree ?
The book I read on mothers stairs this man in comic strip ,
When i was 10 years old ,
The same man who died for me torchered on a tree .
Would it be tie a yellow ribbon , or the ****** red Barron from Germany ?
We used to pray in Chennestone hands up all to see
a peek to see who's looking
We listened to Griegs Morning , and sung there's no discouragement to be a Pilgrim .
Then one day God came calling on the Isle of Wight.
On Covie camp on blended knee i opened my heart to thee .
Oh the lion may roar from time to time ,
Gods grace is still enough for me
