Over the years people of the parish have generously contributed original poetry for us to include here. There is always room for more, of course, so if you write poetry and are willing to share it, please let us know - either face-to-face or via e-mail:
- Webmaster Deacon Mark
The girl came home from school that day with joy upon her face,
Told Mum she’s home, then up the stairs to homework lightning pace.
‘What’s up with you?’ her mother shouted after she departed.
She’d never seen the child so keen on homework not yet started.
‘I’ve got to finish straight away, he said I’d to prepare.
I got the text at lunchtime. He said I’m nearly there.’
‘Nearly where?’ said mother and, ‘Who called you at the school?’
‘Some guy called Gabe,’ the girl replied. ‘I know I broke a rule,
But he said that it was urgent and his message couldn’t wait.
The world depended on his news, given its present state.
He said I’d have a baby, a little boy, he said.
He said to call him Jesus, but I like Joe or Fred.’
Mother shouted, ‘Get down here at once! I’m calling Dad!
We’ll tell the law about this man; to me he sounds quite mad.’
So down the stairs her daughter came and joy soon disappeared.
The child was all a tremble and on her face were tears.
‘Has anybody touched you? I won’t be cross with you
but you must tell the truth and then I’ll know what we must do’.
‘It’s only text,’ the girl replied, ‘a message on my phone.
He made me feel I’m wanted when I’ve felt quite alone
And also I’ve a feeling, a stirring deep inside.
I think that there’s a baby, a child I cannot hide.
He said that I should keep it; the child will wondrous be.’
‘I’ll talk with you and Dad,’ said Mum, ‘and then, my child, we’ll see.’