When the Knight won his Spurs.

Poem/Children’s Hymn.

Words John Struther,

Music Ralph Vaughn Williams

First appeared on Songs of Praise in 1931.

When a knight won his spurs, in the stories of old,

He was gentle and brave, he was gallant and bold

With a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand,

For God and for valour he rode through the land.

No charger have I, and no sword by my side,

Yet still to adventure and battle, I ride,

Though back into storyland giants have fled,

And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead.

Let faith be my shield and let joy be my steed

'Gainst the dragons of anger, the ogres of greed;

And let me set free with the sword of my youth,

From the castle of darkness, the power of the truth.

Leisure by W. H. Davies.

WHAT is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,

And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

Wild Winds in March, 2019 by marge.

We have had a week of high winds,

Courtesy of Storm Gareth.

The row of Silver Birch trees

That I see from my bedroom window

Are ballet dancing: Bending forward

Bending back, their long fronds like

Arching arms, elegantly moving with

The wind, then straighten up to

Reach for the sky.

The poor birds, even the strong

In-flight Magpie is picked up and

Thrown off course. Fat Pigeon stands

No chance, his attempt at straight

Line flying - once the gust is passed,

he plummets unceremoniously,

Flapping his wings trying to

recover his equilibrium.

The sparrows and blue tits, so light,

Are hurled about like confetti at

A wedding. They have little hope of

Recovering themselves, they have

To go where the wind takes them.

I doubt they will have a safe landing

In among the Hazelnut bushes.

Even the clouds at moving at a fast

rate of knots, huge clouds, light feathery

Clouds, black rain clouds, moving from East

To West, behind them the bright blue sky

Rising in the East, the morning sun

Lights up the scene of Storm Gareth

Being forced at long by the Jet Stream.

© Marjorie Lacy, March 2019

Prayer by Carol Ann Duffy

Prayer by Carol Ann Duffy.

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer

utters itself. So, a woman will lift

her head from the sieve of her hands and stare

at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth

enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;

then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth

in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales

console the lodger looking out across

a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls

a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside, the radio's prayer -

Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

(edited)

Today is "D" Day by marge.

                              What is “D” Day you may say

let me tell you, my daughter is

getting her new dog - a puppy!

That is making her and family happy.

I am not so sure, but reading the

Breed’s statistics - not for me - she

will grow to a heavy, bulky animal.

One good thing, little brushing needed.

It says “it needs much socialisation,

take the puppy everywhere you go.

expose it to everything, other dogs,

children, traffic, noise and chaos”.

(Sounds like training a Police Horse)

The breed is also happy with own

company, ideal for a busy family.

She will be a dog loyal to them.

Her breed is an ancient one,

Originally from Southern China,

2,000 years of history, a rare dog.

Because of Communist China

Ban on all dogs, few escaped.

The modern dogs came from

Singapore and Hong Kong.

Then to U. K. Breeders and,

today, one comes to my daughter.

It is “D”  Day = Dog Day.

© Marjorie Lacy, March 2019.

Worst Day Ever by 14 year old Dyslexic Schoolgirl

Worst Day Ever.   (Top to bottom = Bad version.)

I am stupid

Nobody would ever say

I have a talent for words

I am meant to be great

That is wrong

I am a failure

That I am a failure

Nobody could ever convince me

I can make it in life.

Worst Day Ever.   (Bottom to Top = Good version.)

I can make it in life

Nobody could ever convince me

That I am a failure

That is wrong

I was meant to be great

I have a talent for words

Nobody would ever say

I am stupid.

To see more:

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