On July 4th

July Fourth – symbolic Declaration Day

In ’76  – for o’er a year – war they did wage

For at least seven more – it would yet rage

Until in Paris – finally independence was agreed

But on this day – hearts still do stir

Freedom’s claim and promise to assure

And let it so be – for all in Liberty’s Land

A bright reality on which to stand

 

Padre

 

 

 

 

Service

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British NCOs WW1, Image – A family photo from Padre’s Ramblings

It is Armed Forces Day in the UK.  It is marked annually at the end of June to commemorate the service of men and women of the British Armed Forces.  It is similar to the American Veterans’ Day, though it is more recent, having been created in 2006 (as compared to the US’ celebration which dates to the 1950s).  Although an official event, it is not a public holiday in the UK.

Service

Service isn’t just a thing that you do

I really needs to be part of you

Prepared on behalf of other’s – to enter the fray

Waiting to count the risks “on some other day.”

To serve, to protect, even sacrifice

Is what it is to enter that way of life

 

Padre

 

 

What a Relief

 

People, Leisure, Couple, Relaxing

Pixabay

Time to relax, the summer’s begun

World of Concrete – behind me

Now for some much needed sun.

Kids to summer camp

Have been sent away

Sand and sea before me

To fill up my day.

Straw hat on my head,

Margarita in hand,

Crash of waves to serenade me

On my comfy lounger bed.

 

Padre

 

 

Craft a poem on the these of “What a Relief, “using at least 4 of the following 7 words and phrases:

smooth sailingsharkconcretewax sealsummer campmargarita, and straw hat.

 

I still might not be the time for such escapes, but let’s hope the world-wide crisis abates so we can again find such reliefs.

Christmas Traditional Lyrics: Wexford Carol

“Christmassy Music” is Jim Adams’ challenge this week, with emphasis on the terms Christmas, Holiday, and Snowman.  Here is a traditional offering, the Wexford Carol.  It is claimed by some to be 12th Century, and while this is debatable, it is assuredly 18th or 19th Century.

Variation of Lyrics:

[Good people all, this Christmas time
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has done
In sending His beloved Son
With Mary holy we should pray
To God with love this Christmas day]
In Bethlehem upon that morn’
There was a blessed Messiah born
Near Bethlehem did shepherds keep
Their flocks of lambs and feeding sheep
To whom God’s angels did appear
Which put the shepherds in great fear
“Arise and go”, the angels said
“To Bethlehem, be not afraid
For there you’ll find this happy morn’
A princely Babe, sweet Jesus born”
With thankful heart and joyful mind
The shepherds went that Babe to find
And as God’s angel had foretold
They did our Savior Christ behold
Within a manger He was laid
And by his side the Virgin maid
As long foretold upon that morn’
There was a blessed Messiah born
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Trad / Gavin Emmanuel Murphy
The Wexford Carol lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Padre

The Sweater

christmas-sweaters-are-seen-in-walmart-on-thanksgiving-news-photo-1575914678

“That is the ugliest sweater I have ever seen,” Erin said dismissively.

“I kind of like it,” Wanda said. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Well first of all, it is baby poop green.”

“It’s ‘mustard’ actually,” Wanda said a bit defensively.

“Well, whatever you call it, it looks like it belongs in a nappy.  And what is that design on it?  A moldy doughnut?”

“It’s a wreath,” Wanda humphed.

“Ah, that’s what it is?  So it’s a Christmas jumper then.”

“Well, dah,” Wanda retorted.

“Well in that case, I have seen worse.  Sorry.”

 

Padre  

 

First Line Friday: December 20th, 2019

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

 

It is midwinter.  The days are short.  It is wet and cold.  Many are rushed about by preparations for the holidays.  Others in what is meant to be a festive season of tidings of good news and joy find being away from friends and family a cause of gloom.  Others are apprehensive of the reunions with ones that they have grown apart from.  It is in short, a “bleak mid-winter” for many.

A very dear sister in Christ wrote to me today and confided in me her depression at this season.  Before continuing, I would like to say that I am not medically trained, nor do I understand all the ins and outs of biochemical responses to situations.  Even my psychological training was limited to family counselling and low level talking therapies.  I can add to that that I am a classic type B personality, and elation and depression are low key in my own life.

That all said, even with this Christmas-tide upon us, and it being the first since Dianne’s passing, I still have no depression.  Yes, the weather and season are dark and drizzly.  Yes, I spend a lot of time physically alone.  But I still have faith in not ever being totally alone.  Jesus said, “I will be with you always,” and I find comfort in that, and my ad hoc conversations with Him are frequent.  I also trust in His promise that Dianne and I are not permanently separated, but we will be reunited in the place Jesus has gone ahead to prepare.

Christina Rossetti’s poem In the Bleak Midwinter reminds us though of the promise of the season.  Despite all of the gloom and social stresses, it is the arrival of Emmanuel which we should cling to.  He came that all concerns could be lifted from us.  He has come to bring us peace.

Some might take exception to such views.  Marx is credited with saying religion, and by implication faith, is the opiate of the masses.  If that is the case, the all I have to say is bring on the spiritual pharmaceuticals!  I want “the peace that exceeds all understanding,” and I wish you find it as well.

 

Padre

On the Tip of My Tongue

Coffee Break, Conference, Women, Meeting

Pixabay

 

Who are you?

I’m sure I should know.

Your name is on the tip of my tongue.

 

We met last year,

But it’s very vague now.

But to name you, I now will plunge.

 

“You are Sally, no Sue,”

“Something I’m sure with a ‘S.'”

“Tracy, really? Who would guess.”

 

“So  Tracy, how are you?”

Please tell me something

To get me out of this mess.

 

Padre

 

 

 

 

Loud

Christmas Tree, Ornaments, Christmas

Pixabay

Loud
Loud music
Loud Christmas carols filling air
Loud
Loud colours
Loud decorations everywhere
Loud
Loud demands
Loud requests made on Santa’s knee
Loud
Loud flashbacks
Loud are our childhood memories
On this most holy silent night

#SoCS Dec. 14/19

I found the stream of consciousness prompt to write about “loud,” fascination.  In following the guidelines and with only the prompt word “loud” and the idea of Christmas the poem above began to form.  Without any intention of doing so, the first nine lines fell into a 1-3-8-1-3-8 . . . syllable pattern.  The final line (also 8 syllables) came naturally, but  the 10th line did, I admit require one edit to bring it to 3 syllables.

Padre