Truth

Speak to me friends

That I may hear

Your bitter thoughts

Ring loud and clear

Let them echo

As a candle dies

There's more to truth

Than believed lies.

God Is Love

God loves you, and me, which goes

To show how good His taste can be.

But then, you know, He loves others too;

The ones that we could take or leave.

Like the woman down the road with

Camel’s breath and the face of a toad.

But it’s worse than that as we’ll see

By looking back in history. God loves

Judas who betrayed His Son, and Pilate

Who was at a loss, so feebly sent

Him to the cross. He loves every one

Who’s ever lived; and yes those who

Drove the spikes into His flesh.

He not only loves the ones that we

Could love but loves the ones that

We hate. He loves the ones that make

Us weep. He loves the ones that take

Lives on a scale so vast our flesh will

Creep to think of it. He loves Hitler,

Tojo, Mussolini, Stalin too, along with

Franco, and others from that zoo. Idi

Amin, Saddam Hussain, we wonder how.

Lots more too, and Chairman Mao. He

Loves the thieves, the whores, the pimps

And God forbid, but it took a while, to

Realise He even loves the paedophiles.

He loves us all, both good and bad, and

Every shade of in between. He loves the

Dirty and the clean. He loves the ones

That love Him back. He loves the ones

That turn their back. It’s coming closer

Now as you reconcile He loves the one

Who killed your child. He also loves the

One who raped your wife and in doing

So wrecked your life.

For God so loved the world

that He gave His only Son

So that everyone who believes in Him

Will not perish but have eternal life.

God is love

Is that enough?

The Old Lady, The Postman, and The Girl.

The old lady sits silently pissing.

Reminiscing, she wonders where

On the long road of life she took

The turning that led to this chair.

Daily she sits in the same corner

And wets herself from time to time

As tears trickle down her cheek.

The postman passes through the lounge.

Seeing the old lady he is reminded of

His Nan. His nose wrinkles as he tries

to place the smell. At first he thinks of

cabbage then grimaces as he realises

What it is only too well. He puts the

Mail on the empty desk and leaves.

The old lady sees the postman passing.

She is reminded of someone she knows

But can't remember who it is or even

His name. She squirms in her wetness

And wonders where the girl is with the tea.

The squeaking wheel of the trolley no

Longer disturbs the peace of the day.

The blonde girl serving tea is shyly aware

Of the postman's stare. She blushes

As he stops to speak and lets his eyes

Wander over her breasts before resting

On her face. The old lady is forgotten as

He attempts once more to persuade the

Girl to meet him in the pub after work.

The old lady seeing this brief encounter

Wonders what she would have done if

Such an opportunity had come her way.

Would she have been a faithful wife or

Perhaps have given in to temptation.

What would the girl do? She seemed nice

But even nice girls can be hussies.

The girl is tempted but she knows the

Postman is married with children and

Wonders how she would feel if her

Husband, when she has one, cheated

On her with a girl who served tea to

Old ladies who pissed themselves

In the corner from time to time.

The postman wonders how long he'll

Need to work on the girl before she

gives in and meets him for a drink.

They all fell for his charms in the end.

He is looking forward to his next

Delivery where a bored brunette

Teetering on the edge is waiting.

The old lady sits silently waiting

Patiently as the girl gets nearer with

The squeaky tea trolley. The girl

Reaches her and pouring a cup from

The urn puts it by her side. The old

Lady tries to smile but the effort is

Too great so falls asleep instead.

Mustn't Grumble

Why do some find life so hard?

While others sail serenely through

All the strife that comes their way

Not once or twice but day on day.

The moaners like to moan a lot

But does it help? No! Not a jot,

And everything seems so much bother.

If it's not one thing then it's another.

For myself I try to smile

And bear my lot with fortitude.

Although not rich I live in style

I have heating, light, a roof, and food.

And on occasions if I should stumble

I think, 'Oh well,' Mustn't grumble.

Advice For A Friend

Get close to your enemies,

Let them feel your love.

Return the threat of the hawk

With the peace of the dove

Hold back your strength

When they think you weak.

Receive the words that wound

And turn the other cheek.

From being like the Lord

Your power will come.

And if all else should fail; then

Nils illegitimus carborundum.

Let His Spirit Flow

Softly, gently
See the sun is rising
Darkness leaving
Now the day is warming

Raindrops falling
Feel the earth accepting
Seedlings growing
Creation is responding

Warmed by the rays
Of the sun fruit grows
Nourished by the earth
Fed by the words
Of the Son we grow
Let His Spirit flow.

Love, joy, peace, and faithfulness
Let His Spirit flow
Patience, kindness, goodness too
Let His Spirit flow
Gentleness and self-control
Let His Spirit flow.

Always seeking
Making time for learning
Slowly changing
Now we are maturing.

Love, joy, peace, and faithfulness
Let His Spirit flow
Patience, kindness, goodness too
Let His Spirit flow
Gentleness and self-control
Let His Spirit flow.

Hurting

He never even noticed times were changing
I guess he thought they never really would
He wanders round the empty house despairing
And wants to make things better if he could
They went to church every single Sunday
To praise the Lord and give their ten percent
He wonders if she knows how he's so lonely
And feeling so betrayed that she went.

A mile or two away she's with her lover
And glad for some attention for a time
It's not as if she's getting any younger
But he talks to her and she feels in her prime
They're making love but still her thoughts are drifting
Back to a time when it was all pretend
She wonders if he knows and if he's hurting
That she's lying in the arms of his best friend

Early hours and still he's up and thinking
About another time when he was young and keen
His wife has gone and he feels like he is sinking
They'd married at a rather young nineteen
She pulls her robe around a little tighter
And watches as the sun breaks in the sky
She thinks about a future that was brighter
And cries inside and feels that she could die.