Afternoon Tea
The
quiet tones of Radio 3 filled the room as per usual that Sunday
afternoon. The sound of Bach bringing a sense of contentment and being
to proceedings for the day. The announcer’s voice was soothing as it
filled the air with serenity and assurance as the frost clung to the
window.
It was the kind of day so typical in the mind of everything
that England should be. Afternoon tea being prepared with freshly baked
cake to be served with it. And so nobody was prepared for the shock
about to come. One of the silver spoons in the cutlery set had not been
washed.
Blog
God
a conversation with a friend
Seriously,
I find that it helps to see God in the feminine at times ... six of
one, half a dozen of the other ... away from convention ... I read
Biblical Books like "Song of Songs" and learn that God is far closer
than we think. God is a personal matter, so the last thing we want is a
friend talking at us about that which encompasses us all. I try to see
this in science too, as Creation expands, until renewed. Though in the
end, it is for us ourselves on a personal level to work it out. I always
as a teenager loved what Jesus said, oh you know, about keeping your
prayer in your room. Yes, I did the church gig and played music in
there, lead services up to Intercession, backed for priesthood; though I
still love the personal gig. I can't prescribe anything ... I just know
that God is in everything that we do ... it is not a club.
I don't
have all of the answers ... I just say Hallelujah anyway ... even when
all seems dark ... I did that in prison in short spell there (unjust
episode in life) ... I simply read The Lord's Word and prayed ... one of
my most cherished memories in life was when I did a reading in the
Chapel and guards and prisoners alike gave me a round of applause ... I
knew then that God was with me and related so much to St Paul when he
was imprisoned
Jotting
She's The Boss
She's the Boss
What a loss
To be without her
Always the Boss
gets cross
I run and hide
Who is she?
I can see
Love her
She is Love itself
I am not bereft
With her in view
For She is God
Didn't you know
Other half to grow
See her in all
Hear her call
For She is God
Gag
It
was all so hot. Water running off the walls. It had never been like
this before in 30 years of marriage, within the bedroom. "Oh! Fecking
Hell", screamed Brenda, "You left on the hot tap again!"
copyrightdewyswriter 2024
No comments:
Post a Comment