A delicate crimson rose endures
The snow and winds of winter's grasp
And closes up and wilts a while
Until Summer sun it finds at last

In this world of unrighteousness
Where brutes and ogres' egos roam
And selfishness abounds like weeds
She exists in shattered form

With silent seething disilusion
And saddened, unrequited love
Maddened by the unjust acts
of those who advertized their “love”

A vain and self-indulgent god
Did sieze himself her mind and oath
Presiding as the demons do
In hidden acts pronounced as gross  

Enduring the madness of matriarchs
And the hostility of tribal gang
Where smiles of familial welcoming
Turned into savage, jealous fangs  

Yet though the bitterness seeps through
And anger permeates her skin
Sweet dignity she still retains
And devotion stll resides within

Her adornment incorruptible
Her spirit mild and resolute
Did not return evil for evil
But stood and conquered it with good

Happy is she who has endured
And in mild subjection did remain
Showing honour to a painful degree
To bring honour to Jehovah's name

And though she stumbled in despair
Yet withstood for righteous sake
Her loyalty, the beast could not sever
Nor divine concsience could he break

For like the rose at winter's end
That bears a striking sharpened thorn
Her petals still are soft and pure
And her soul with beauty still adorned

For the righteous one who sees all things
And whose love she yet retains
Will never for eternity forget
The love she showed for his great name

And should she reach out and beseech
And trust his salvation once again
She would know with certainty
He has never let go her hand


(For my precious daughter, Cheryl, who has been to hell and back)

In ancient times was born a day, for festival and joyful feast
Where all would gather eagerly, to pour the wine and roast the beast
And at first these new days, gave the people needed rest
Gave them pause from toil and worry, made them feel that they were blessed

But over years and under Eons, new days contrived were added on
Days to worship fellow men, or worship season, moon and sun
And soon this list of special days, got beyond all real control
And came to be under compulsion, and so began to take their toll

And we forgot the origins, the purpose and the why
And we embroiled with heavy hearts, with cost and groan and sigh
A day for Christ born and dead, on a day he did not choose
To self-indulge with merriment, and Christianity re-use

But soon became the bearded saint, and jolly man of snow  
Or chocolate feast and bunny hop, and mystic mistletoe
A day for thanks, a day for dads, a day for Saints and ghouls
And one for lovers and for mothers, and even one for fools

Remembering ****** victory, or the start of a new year
A day to gorge and one to fast, for fireworks and fear
And a day for every one of us, so we are worshipped too
To make us feel loved just once a year, cause once will have to do

And then the days become the law, and choice is left undone
Compelled to celebrate each time, or risk us being shunned
For who can deny a chocolate egg, for child or lover sweet?
Or deny a mother's floral gift, or children's spooky treat?



Who would dare to question these, and stop from living lies?
Who will defy these decrees, and in the face of pressure fly?
For we comply, against our will, while we incur the debt
Though the birthday boy be a loathsome lad, for one day he is the best

And children challenge strangers, for sugar under threat
And mum is glorified one day, then daily we forget
For if we are forced to love one day, when and how and who
How less likely all year round, do we tell them “I love you”?

Yet among these obligation days, one was left behind
A day given long ago, but one to which we're blind
Remember that day of rest that was, when families were one
And the world would stop and contemplate, and gather in the sun  

No more days like that for us, this world has gone beyond
Past truth and love and God above, to whom we once belonged

And so I choose to have a day, where no-one is adored
Where no purchase is required, one which we can afford
Where the corporates do not dictate, and sell plastic love to us
And the measure of our affection, is not how much it cost

And give no name, nor choose a date, but fellowship hold dear
And warmly tend to love and friend, on all days of the year

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bring to you a sad affair
Someone who evokes such fury, yet one who faces deep despair

For this, the accused who faces death, or lives according to your decree
Who makes no statement with dying breath, yet silently invokes her plea    

What crimes are done by this lost soul, what evil deeds did she aspire?
And where the witness of her death toll, the evidence that guilt requires?

No crime recorded, no victim slain, no trace of ****** or robbery
No voice of condemnation raised, none here to force a guilty plea  

She has no wrongs in her short life, has no deceit within her soul
No hurt has she, nor human spite, no determined selfish goal  

But one accuser, here today, one joined in life and woven fate
This one though will have her say, and claim the life she helped create

This witness claims to suffer pain, and a prison, should the accused survive
That her life will ebb and be restrained, and sadness would always reside

For some accusers have been defiled, by monstrous beasts of lust and hate
Others young and so beguiled, are induced by charm, so participate  

Others spy disease and defect, and cry acts of mercy to prevent
They choose to extinguish and protect, rather than one day regret

And then are those alone who strive, who cannot toil with life's results
And so instead, they choose their lives, and cry for freedom do exult

But where in these stands the accused, silent and awaiting fate
Her breath and freedom she is refused, for all the reasons the witness states

Is she alive, does she have form, within her soft and warm abode?
Where her heart beats, and fingers form, and from miracles she is wove    

Was she not also one defiled, is she not young and helpless too?
Would malady she reject, and death instead would opt to choose?  

And would not her life loneliness cure, and make a future with great light?
And comfort one who gave her life, and join her purpose true and right

For the accused can offer more than this, should she be allowed today to  live
Has so much that she can share, so much love and joy to give

For in our world, where children die, through hate and fate and evil men
We cherish those we lost too soon, and yearn to see our child again  
  
But what of the accused today, what future do we her deny?
A nurse, a doctor or a friend, a mother of so many lives?

How sad the accuser, so resolute, yet desperate to belong
In a world where our rights are so absolute, that they obscure the wrongs

And what she gains through this sad act, she loses so much more
A legacy of love and hope, a daughter who will adore

And so good people of the jury, I ask that you reflect
Upon the life of this dear child, so amazing and perfect

For my client has committed no crime, no evil deed or word
Is blameless and so innocent, and would not have caused this hurt

I ask therefore for mercy true, that her life be now redeemed
That she might live, and love and learn, and so pursue her dreams


"Your eyes saw even the embryo of me."  - The Bible

I hear of many gods, different and strange
People do what they say, and they're not sure why
Some are born with their family's god
Some mold their gods in their image
Many gods are demanding and aloof
Some gods require deprivation, others require ******
But my God is not like that
My God is not made in any image
Does not have many arms
Is not part animal, and is not a part of creation
He does not work in mysterious ways
My God is one
My God is neither male nor female, although He asks me to call him Father
My God does not ask me to dress a certain way,
or pray a certain way
or eat a certain food
or pray in a certain place
My God does not cause suffering, and He does not take children to be with Him
My God has a beautiful name, but very few people know it
My God hears me, and responds
He gives me wisdom, comfort, courage and hope
My God wants me to help others, not hurt them
He does not take sides in wars
My God invites all people to get to know him, whatever their religion, colour, age, race or ***
He is not confined by His own laws
Does not expect us to solve the world's problems, but has promised to intervene
My God always tells the truth
He hates suffering, and has promised to put an end to it forever
He promises to reverse all evil, and to bring my dead love ones back to life
My God will not let our earth die, because He made it for us
He is patient, kind and loving, and He wants me to be the same
My God knows the best way to live, and He has shown me how
He wants me to live forever
I think you would like my God, if you got to know him

Some people lead, and decide what we need, they are sure and decisive and proud
Others tag along, in a compliant throng, they have to be part of the crowd
But there are those who are staid, because they are afraid, of the prospect of being despised
And so they withdraw, behind a safe door, and live in the shade all their lives    

She's alone and so tense, when school days commence, enduring the chaos she sees
The object of jest, ignored by the best, chosen last in the sporting decrees
She knows she's no belle and the spots really tell, as she stoops low to appear less tall
They see freckles and glass, they see a clumsy outcast, and an unfashionable scruff at the ball

Yet, away from the crowd, she sings sweetly and loud, tends animals in her kind way
She is loyal and wise, and does not despise, those less fortunate and in dismay
She is zealous and funny, and her smile always sunny, and her failings she does not try to hide
And if they cared to pry, and look into her eyes, they would see she is beautiful inside

There was another young girl, whose flame was unfurled, when she became woman at first
From pain of the past, to smashed looking glass, and the thought of a small breasted curse
With the world she contended, those she loved, she offended, till their love was exhausted and spent
Once lost from its sight, she could not do right, and spiralled, and twisted and bent

Yet, some could recall, when she was still small, and eager and funny and sweet,
when she used to run, to please everyone, and joyfully cuddle and greet
For this girl was true, and genuine through, and barren of pretense and pride
Yet most could not see, that, always was she, so innocent and beautiful inside    

This lad is not strong, and he has never belonged, to a gang or a club or a team
For stammer and blush, are easily crushed, by the boys who are considered the cream  
No sport and no game, no President's name, but the task of retrieving the ball
Dismissed and derided, by those that decided, that a man should be seven feet tall

But his mind is a place, where wonders take place, and brilliance comes to the fore
Pouring out words, and music unfurled, which causes the spirit to soar
When he sings, he's not slow, and his closest ones know, that his rare gift cannot be denied                
Though hidden away from the world's selfish gaze, his voice is so beautiful inside

And another is she, a mother of three, who's fleeting love has long disappeared
Yet the blame she will take, and guilt she can't shake, as she pauses her dreams for some years
Mistakes, she has made, and her children will pay, and gratitude she is denied
And she must run with the crowd, and pretend she is proud, when she really is dying inside

Had they known her, before sadness occurred, they would have seen trust and a friend
Unselfish and wise, swift to empathize, and never would her principles bend  
For she would have shone, a rare companion, one that would stand by their side
Through danger and despair, she'd always be there, because she is so beautiful inside  

He now lives alone, since his beloved passed on, taking with her his passion and pride
He still rises at dawn, though his work is long gone, and his home is so cluttered inside    
He dreads stepping out, where the young taunters shout, of his baldness, his stoop and his skin
In a world that thinks age, is a lonely dark cage, where you go when you're ready to give in

Yet stored in his mind, is a library in kind, that holds so much wisdom and lore
He found joy, and true love, searched for God up above, knowing peace, yet enduring a war
A father, a son, a hero when young, supporting the poor and the tired
Once loved and adored, by many who saw, the man who is beautiful inside

When we think of our friends, and what drew us to them, was it their job, their hobbies, their smile?
Or the music they chose, their hair or their clothes, or was it something we could not define?
Because we need to be sure, it was something more pure, something worth the investment of you
Cos, Good looks don't mean kind, and pretty fades with time, but loyalty will always hold true

For a good sense of fashion doesn't breed compassion, and a hot date can often cause burns
Bravado is fleeting, and self-confidence self defeating, and sarcasm often returns
Do we want fun, and affairs on the run, or are we really looking for more?
If not, then dig deep, and be ready to weep, for calamity stands at your door

For, when all's said and done, we fear being alone, and we fight for the souls that we choose
Whether kindness or cruel, the wise or the fool, with them we will win or we lose
And hope  settles down, and wanders around, searching for one who'll be kind
So don't settle for less, but administer this test, and see if they are beautiful inside

This world and life which we muddle through
Throws up those announced as heroes
Who's names engrave the rocks and halls
And speak of glories past
Yet accolades and power and art and fame
Are these enough to satisfy these hearts?
And what shall we, in our brief sojourn
Consider worthy of our thoughts and affections?
What gifts do giants us bequeath
That we should imitate their lives?
A Churchill, a Mozart, or Einstein's mind
Should we adore accomplishments done
As the legacy of humankind?
For never on our day of expiry
Would we regret a lost career
Nor count the missing sterile possessions
That clutter homes and hearts
But rather we would yearn for more
More moments spent in sweet embrace
With ones so precious and alive
Closer to these hearts are heroes found
Whose lives to posterity seem obscure
Yet offer glimpse of wonders in our soul
And trace that by which defines our goal
And so I recall the days of past
And soft familiar faces true
For what shall we, alone at last
Define the greatest human truth?
From cherry cheeks of childhood woes
To frailty and silver hair
With feet often entrenched in mire
Where struggle cannot free us for another step
Then weary, dusty, thirsty feet did trample many miles back home
Where soft warm arms and fires carressed our cares
Melting away the misery for one moment
They lost loves, endured wars, suffered sadness
Yet carried many through thunder and fear
Shared a bathtub full of tears
And faced the turbulent world as one
Despite poverty and pain
They danced and smiled
On the pleasant playground of seashores
Where shell and stone astound
We were mums and dads
Just like the real heroes we shared our lives with
We were friends
And we have learned so much
And gazed at glorious sun and moon
And bounced and leapt and touched the sky
And siezed a tiny piece of Heaven for our earth
For our short lives
Then drank summer's wine and winter's snowflakes
And tasted true life
For, because of them, we have found joy
Even among the bitterness
And ever shall we recall and rejoice
Because we were part of it all
Because we are
And above all other things
We have loved

To what kind of cosmos do I belong
And what pattern or value does it hold?
Among the nebulae and nova, strung upon the heavenly horizon
I see wonders and fearful conflicts arise and diminish
All the glory of light shatters the blank abyss
And stars I cannot behold are promised to be
Somewhere I may never tread
What kind of universe am I afloat within?
Does it know, or think, or care?
And what future has it in store for me
For sun and this pretty world?
Can it be a death, a memorial of glory dying?
Is it stretched to breaking point, and yearning to return to nothing?
Will it take me with it, on it's final journey?
As grey clouds mass gently above my brow
And drops caress my world with indifference
I wonder, about all things
And those that came before
Who gazed at skies and loved our moon
Who marveled at our star, yet feared it's wrath
And I ask myself
What difference does it make
Whether we were meant to be
Or whether we are not a thought?
Is this vastness a universe of despair
Where hope is vain and cruel
And unbridled power chooses planets and peoples?
Is this place so cold
Where there is no plan, no thought, no intention?
Are these hollow glories as cold as the barren planets
As empty as the lunar seas?
For if all is collide and collapse
And all patterns and platitudes meaningless and random
Then the greatest echo of the cosmos is sadness
Until all is no more
And time is spent and gone
Is it true?
Shall I weep for men, for earth, for stars?
What stays these tears?
It is the impossible, the unanswerable
The chorus of question and the fathom of joy
If this was meant to be
If light gives birth to life
And the universe gives birth to music
What more is to come?
There can be only one answer
Despair and destruction
Or design and deliverance
What do the stars tell me?
They whisper
A secret
They point the way