ST PAUL’S MESSAGE FOR CONVERSATION
IN his letter to the Philippians, St Paul encourages us to to look to the good and noble in life and make them the subjects of our conversations, rather than the other nonsense.
Canadian poet Edna Jaques must have had that letter in mind when she wrote:
“If there is beauty in a world of ill,
A quiet valley where a church bell rings,
Where there is faith and love and little homes,
Speak on these things . . . “
FINDING ANSWERS
“I READ poetry when I’m stuck,” a friend told me. “When I can’t see how to get a thing done or when life has beaten me down to a place where I can’t be bothered any more, I like to read my favourite poems, or take a chance on new ones.”
“Do you find the answers in the poems?” I asked.
“Never.” She smiled.
“Then why?”
“Because they raise my spirits, they fill me up, they remind me what is important and they restore me. Then I am able to find the answers in me. Where they were all along.”
The power of poetry. It has the ability to change anything.
. Recommended reading
‘One Moonlit Night’ by Rachel Hore is an absorbing and touching fictional tale. It is a poignant story, rich in period detail: a wonderfully moving tale of love and loss, hope and eventual reconciliation.
Recently released, the novel is a stunnig depiction of life during the war, both for the men who faced death on the battlefields and for those left behind at home. Exploring themes of betrayal, family dynamics, and the all-enduring love between those seperated by war, it’s a compelling and evocative read, brimming with hope, courage and buried secrets.
Readers will likely be lost in the poised, intelligent writing, the complex characters, the intrigue and atmosphere of an old country house in wartime Norfolk and the lovely story at its core. The author delivers a story that stirs the deepest emotions.
A wonderful read.
ENJOYING my usual evening walk, I paused to stand a while
And watch the baby rabbits play – their antics make me smile!
What seemed an empty hedgerow stretched along the winding lane,
But as I stood there silently I had to think again!
First came some busy buzzing bees and they were quite intent
On seeking honeysuckle flowers, drawn by their heady scent.
Then from the ivy popped a wren, a tiny perky thing,
And then landed a blackbird, too, and he began to sing
His own sweet song, full-throated, pure, as he was unaware
That I stood listening to the notes that filled the evening air.
The hawthorn swarmed with small black flies and then a ladybird
And several butterflies arrived – I smiled at how absurd
To think this hedgerow void of life; I’d been completely blind!
It teemed, it buzzed, it was alive with life of every kind!
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