how much of our beautiful kingdom is built on lies
how many bricks would fall and crumble under the light of the truth
how many floors are only solid when we don’t think about what’s hiding underneath them
how much of you is just a story I’ve written in my head
to distract myself from the reality of this failing situation

So much of our beautiful kingdom is made up of lies
The towers are collapsing and we are falling apart
The floors are disappearing and the darkness of the dungeon is creeping in
The sea is flooding and there is bloodshed on our shores

Our beautiful kingdom is a lie
A façade

and oh
it would feel so good to be free

Christmas can be a time
when families get together:
Young children scream, wine glasses gleam,
waiting for M&S dinner.

The TV's in the corner
rerunning Home Alone,
Heart radio's in the kitchen,
Chris Rea's driving home,
again.

The toddlers find the wrapping
more engaging than the Duplo
Teen couples find the company
less of interest than their own.

The dog's confused and excited
with so many different sources
of scratches and pats, she can't relax,
her whining is remorseless.

Christmas can be a time
when families are missed,
the parcel made last post
winging off to little sis.

Zoom will come in handy
to laugh across the miles,
the screen will mask the tears
and focus on the smiles.

Christmas can be a time
when budgets get stretched tight,
cash pressures get to breaking point
and prompt senseless fights.

Some focus on opportunity
to spend some gilt-free money,
the only prayers are for extra hours
and a faster Tesco trolley.

For others it's simply ' Yuletide'
an excessive celebration,
a winter feast, all you can eat,
give in to all temptation.

Most focus on the family,
even more on the gifts;
there's little time for Jesus
assigned amongst the myths.

Some do sing of Jesus
in half forgotten carols,
they know there's something more
than donkeys and angel heralds.

And there He is in the middle,
noticed once in a while;
it's His birthday, but all He's getting
is a half-hearted song and a smile.

But He's no longer a babe in a manger,
He's now a resurrected King,
And he waits for you who would worship
to stand and welcome Him in.

Christmas can be a time
for each of us to choose -
Our Christmas King stands waiting
Will we worship Him in truth?

Our love is a castle

and

I was your queen.

Climbing clouds on calamitous clouds
Which break underneath my feet.
Feat of power feast of kings
Milking blood from the plump vine discrete.
They tear man from limb and brother
For judges to goblet just few.
How was anyone to know
I reach for the smaller of the two.

don’t look at me like I don’t belong,
like me and my kind ain’t full welcome

We're all immigrants, no-one's born in this kingdom,
We’ve got the same grace-rights, as full-fledged citizens

We've each got eternal leave to remain
and have done since the day we came

We have full access, we're all V-I-Ps,
us and the King, we’re real family

me and mine are all around His manor,
if you don’t like it, take it to Father.