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Tea with David Attenborough

I got a text the other day

It meant a lot to me

It was from David Attenborough

Inviting me for tea!

I took along some butterfly buns

I thought he would really like that

He complimented me on my cakes

Then on his sofa we sat

I thought that I would invite you

He explained when we settled down

Because I know you love animals

And that while you were here in town

I’d tell you about my travels

And show you some photos too

Of all the animals I’ve seen

I know it would interest you.

First on the list was Africa

And his programme about gorillas that time

He had photos of tigers and zebra

And the king of the jungle – the lion!

Then we looked at Australia

There were Kangaroo jumping so fast

And also snakes and spiders

And Koala - my favourite at last!

David was part of a rescue in the bush fires

Getting the koalas down from the trees

And taking them off to a hospital to recover

I just wanted to give them a squeeze!

I could have spent a week talking to him

But the end of the night came too soon

He asked if I wanted to go with him

On a safari – you bet I do!

I’m starting to save up and pack my bags

We don’t know quite when it will be

It depends when travelling’s allowed again

Well who’d have thought? David Attenborough and me!

Christine Rowe

May 2021

HI, THOMAS.

I’ve always had a quiet,

maybe unspoken

Respect for you.

Yes, we love Peter,

Always blurting it out,

Putting his foot in it,

As many of us do.

But you were a quieter one.

Which doesn’t mean that you weren’t thinking,

Turning things over in your mind,

Wondering what He meant.

One day He said,

You know the place where I am going.”

And the others were silent.

But you said quietly,

“How can we know the way?”

To prompt that strong reply,

“I am the Way.”

You worried for His safety.

You knew when Lazarus died

And the grieving sisters begged Him

To return to Bethany again,

To the region where the Jews had stoned Him,

You knew He was risking arrest,

or even death,

If He returned.

But when He said He WOULD go

In spite of danger

You were the one to say,

“Let us also go,

That we may die with Him.”

So......why were you absent

When the others were all there,

That evening after Mary saw the Gardener?

Were you so sick at heart

That He had died?

That all His life

And your life too

Had been a waste,

A dream,

A nothing?

They told you they had seen Him,

That He had talked with them.

Not possible.

Not after that gruelling and vicious death.

But still...... you joined them when they met next time

And He DID come

And spoke to all your doubts.

You didn’t need

To touch His wounds,

To put your hands into His side.

You knew.

And you declared,

“My Lord, my God!”

And so you were the first

To call Him GOD.

And from then onward

You were always with them when He came.

And after?

History’s not clear.

You may have preached in India,

You may have written Gospels

Whatever.

I’ve always had a quiet,

Not now unspoken,

Respect for you.

Jackie Dunn May 2021

The Conversation Piece

We were all invited to your house and as you led us to the parlour

You’d got a great big smirk on your face.

And from that moment on I knew for a fact that you hadn’t got an ounce of taste.

It was so obvious that you loved it, you couldn’t stop yourself

From telling us where it was from, how old it was and how much you reckoned

it was worth.

“My God”, thought I, “what an evening this is going to be! So much for fun,

laughter, merriment and mirth.”

I admit your Objet d’art made us all stare. Aroused lots of comments and interest.

“Give me a drink!” You brought it back from where?

What’s that again? Not seen anything like it on Pinterest?

Oh, er, it’s loverly, it’s er, how charming, it is vintage or an antique?”

Someone says with a grin and a tongue in their cheek.

“Oh”, says another, “it is unusual, a curiosity perhaps, an acquired taste.

It suits your surroundings.

To put it in the bathroom would be such a waste.” (cough cough.)

“Sorry”, you say. You hate to be the centre of attention?

And you wish it hadn’t caused such negative conversation.

“Our fault now is it?” I don’t think so!

We would have more manners than to give the thing a mention.

May it be good taste or bad, just a matter of personal opinion I’d say,

Whether you agree or you don’t, we can’t all be Hyacinth Bouquet!

But I feel sorry for our host. To say his Capodimonte is not antique or original,

Will surely make us all feel somewhat ashamed ……. and quite criminal.

Lorna

February 2021

Ziggy, the Christian Cat

On Sunday mornings, an Adherent in black, listens to the service sitting on my chair’s back.

It’s Ziggy, my cat. Why is he there? His eyes are closed so he must be at prayer.

He can’t go to church but he joins us by Zoom. You’ll see him behind me if you look in my room.

Not for him sleep on a rug or a mat. He’s as black as Satan, but he’s a Christian cat.

He always shuns the computer mouse as he sits amongst us in God’s house.

Runciman, Dunn or Crome - he’ll make sure he stays at home

because the Sunday service is his goal. This cat too, surely has a soul?

He just can’t stay away because his desire is to pray.

He can’t give a reading or sing a song. But he’s not a sinner. He’ll do no wrong.

He’s finally learned to behave, so if you spot him, please give him a wave.

And if you’re feeling out-of-kilter, consider a cat, whilst on Zoom, as your filter.

You’ll soon be feeling fine if you copy my saintly feline.

Ziggy, the Christian pet. He’ll be made a Member yet.

Alison Russell

April 2021

Easter Monday 2021

Blue sky, white grass and rooftops,

A reminder, if ever we needed it,

That Winter and Spring are still in lockdown.

Last week we sunned ourselves,

Sitting in the garden,

Inviting friends – at a distance –

To join us.

Today we’re shivering,

Reluctant to go outside

And test the sub-zero temperature.

But Spring will win,

Easter will overcome Good Friday,

The hellebores give way to tulips

And we’ll walk together

In companionable sunshine.

Jackie Dunn

April 2021

The Stopper's There……

I've lost my hot water bottle

Wherever can it be?

The stopper's there, in its usual place

But the bottle I cannot see.

I keep it in the airing cupboard,

But obviously not today!

The stopper's there, in its usual place,

But the bottle's not – no way.

I need it for my back you see,

It's a bit niggly now and then.

The hot water bottle's what’s needed,

I'll just go and fill it again.

I've searched kitchen, bathroom and bedroom

And the airing cupboard too.

The stopper's there, in its usual place

But the bottle? I haven't a clue!

I'm getting really frustrated now,

Back's aching, I'm ready to wilt.

It's half past three, and if I'd made my bed earlier

I'd have found it rolled up in the quilt.

Well, the bottle won't work with no stopper,

It's a lesson to you and me.

Whether we're the bottle or the stopper,

We all need each other, you see.

Janet

Janet Southgate

If Only

When William Wordsworth was wandering, wooing his daffodils

There were no cars to drool over as we do now.

Okay, daffodils are lovely but I’d much rather be in the driver’s seat

With leather trim and the wind in my hair in a sporty convertible.

That’s my kind of Wow.

It’s the pleasure of being king of the road, the prestige of cruise control,

Being in top gear and the thrill of acceleration.

Oh thank you God for letting me be in this situation.

Like Robert Burns compares his love to a “Red, red rose that’s newly

Sprung in June.”

I’ll compare that to the exhilarating feeling of the performance of a Catalytic converter;

The pure joy of a new hybrid, the dynamic sound of the exhaust going Boom

Liken to a rocket on the way to the moon.

If you think that Richard Lovelace in the sixteen hundreds could wax lyrical

In ten verses about a grasshopper,

Surely then I can put pen to paper about the greatest invention on four wheels with its four

Stroke engine, crankshaft and internal combustion without it being improper.

In William Blake’s “Jerusalem” his love for the splendour of “England’s Green and Pleasant

Land” makes us feel patriotic and want to pray,

Yes I’m happy to drive through our verdant, leafy lanes in my fast, built for

Fun two-seater coupé.

And some revel in the glory of the battlefields as Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “The

Charge of the Light Brigade” was inspired by the war in the Crimea.

“Their’s is not to reason why. Their’s but to do and die. Into the valley of Death rode the six

Hundred!”

I’ll seek my rapture in knowing I have an air-bag air-con in the perfectly formed body of a

Luxury limousine.

So it was, the magnificence of war and power.

My fantasy is burning rubber on the M1 at a hundred and eighty miles an hour.

Some of John Milton’s verses were religious and filled with heavenly joy.

Even Walter de La Mare finds solace in his laments of love between girl and boy.

Whether it’s D H Lawrence’s admiration for the “Snake” in his poem of the same, or maybe

William Butler Yeats and his sweet “Lake Isle of Innisfree”.

Even T S Eliot’s love for cats and Rudyard Kipling on his way to “Mandalay”.

Again these well-loved poets have all had their say.

But just give me the sheer elegance of a dream machine and in my own reverie, feeling like

A millionaire I’ll be on my way.

Lorna

March 2021

Nearly a Year

(inspired by a recent service led by Jackie Dunn)

1. Nearly a year we've been closed down with restrictions, face masks, social

distancing,

Two metres apart, no touching or hugs, who knew what we would be facing?

So the past year has been a difficult one - a time we will never forget.

Fear, isolation, loneliness, sadness, for many the most difficult year yet.

2. But Jackie inspired us, as she asked us to look back and call to mind

The things for which we are thankful - the folk who have been so kind.

For family and friends who have shown us the extent of their love and care.

Our church family, who have helped us, and held us in love and prayer.

3. The phone calls and visits to gardens, a few words from the gate to the door,

A smile, greeting, shopping delivered – received, these things and so many more.

I still smile when I think of the crumble left under my hydrangea bush -

Of lasagnes, curries, soup, and more, they all come to mind in a rush.

4. Then through the post, two tea cosies arrive, bright colours, stripes, tassels and all.

My little sis knows how I love mugs of tea – but the teapot has got to keep warm.

Maria made masks, and Jackie made pies, to keep us protected and fed.

So money was raised and donated to charity as by their skills they were led.

5. We have got into zoom and poetry. We have widened networks to keep track

Of those who may need some attention - we've all watched each other's back.

And now the time we've been waiting for - the vaccine's here – end is in sight.

We know there is still a way to go, but at the end of the tunnel, is light.

6. We'll be glad when this time is over, and we can put restrictions away.

But I hope that one thing from this will continue - the on-going care for others

each day.

Janet Southgate

Let Me Tell You, I Am Not a Domestic Goddess.

Never was and never will be, but since this lockdown my house has never been so clean.

In fact I’ve always thought and I know it’s judgemental of me

That people who love cleaning must be off their trolley.

So at first I thought, sort clothes in the wardrobe, that definitely needs doing.

I got the hang of that, great, I kept on going.

Then I decided to get down and get dirty and give everything a good scrub.

Brushes and cloths and lots of lather in my bucket and a rub a dub dub!

Tops of doors, skirting boards. Ledges and architraves.

Getting in those corners and round those bends to where all that dirt lives.

I’ve missed a bit, here give me the JIF.

Don’t want unpleasant odours or a nasty whiff.

In nooks and crannies there’s spiders and flies.

Behind the sofa where a wood-louse dies

Up the stepladders, those awkward places to reach.

Will soon be spick ‘n’ span with CILLIT BANG and bleach!

Out comes the long-handled broom for covings and ceiling.

Gazing up at cobwebs isn’t very appealing.

NOW DYSON has become a very good friend of mine and I like to get him out

From time to time.

With his whirr, vroom and bzzz he accompanies me singing.

We make such a noise I can’t hear the phone ringing.

You must remember KIWI and CHERRY BLOSSOM?

Or are they from a bygone age most people have forgotten?

Not me, you can see, all my shoes and boots are like new, you’d think I’d just got ‘em!

Cleaning the leaves on my plants, something I’ve always done.

You can ask Lesley Sanderson for more information on that one!

And it’s quite therapeutic in one way or another.

The befores and the afters. My plants all recover.

My cheese plant’s so healthy, I polish his leaves with mayonnaise.

I read it once somewhere when they were all the craze.

AND DO YOU know who’s in my cupboard under the sink? Yes it’s MR SHEEN.

He’s special, like no other, makes everything come up SO clean.

I give him a little squeeze, press his nozzle. What a spray!

I love the thrill of it all, I just get carried away.

He’s my naughty secret, my guilty obsession.

He’s a must for the dust. The rust goes bust. It’s my lust to be his possession.

To get into tricky places where really no one sees.

I have to get down on my knees.

I’m so grateful that I can get down there.

So whilst kneeling, I’ll say a little prayer.

THANK YOU GOD.

Lorna

January 2021

SHE SITS IN HER TOWER

She sits in her tower,

Looking out, full of hope.

He’s coming today, she knows it.

He promised.

She peers over the tree-tops,

to see the road beyond.

Is that him? Could it be?

The hours go by

And still she waits,

A little doubtful now.

Did she mistake the day?

Maybe she misread the message?

But she’s sure,

Really sure

He’s on his way.

What if something has happened?

The roads are so dangerous,

Anything could happen.

Has he been hurt?

She shakes herself.

Of course he’s safe

And on his way.

He’ll be here soon.

It’s dark now;

Maybe she should give up for today

And hope for tomorrow -

Or the next day.

She trusts him.

Jackie Dunn

February 2021

(Dedicated to all who wait for home delivery.

Apols to Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s ‘The Lady of Shalott

Learning in Lockdown

I have a yearning for Bitesize learning

daily on BBC2

What will it be today?

Maps, Shakespeare and DNA

all for three minutes, or two.

Oh, to be fourteen years old again,

when everything learned remains in the brain.

Now, I don’t know much about history

Don’t know much trigonometry.

It’s Shakespeare week for secondary schools

with Romans, and lovers; kings and their fools.

There’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in modern dress.

(Not one of my favourite plays, I confess.)

I much prefer ‘Hamlet’ with his feigned madness,

and his lover, Ophelia’s tragic sadness.

Shall I tune into Professor Brian

talking about the belt of Orion?

But astronomy isn’t my passion.

I’d rather learn about 18^th Century fashion.

‘Horrible Histories’ is much more my thing

where rats tell the stories and even sing.

Each televised lesson is a blessing

when you cannot go to school.

I’m too old for the online classroom

but I’ll make it a new rule

to learn something new every day.

If only to keep Lockdown boredom at bay.

Alison

9 February 2021

Georgina’s Present

We don’t even know Georgina

Or anything about her – it’s true

But while she was sorting her own Christmas out

She thought about someone who …….

Might be lonely this Christmas

Or struggling? Just someone out there

Georgina prepared a present,

To help another lady feel someone’s care.

Georgina collected things together

That she would like to receive, we think.

Some chocolates, perfume and fizz for her bath

And a bottle of wine to drink.

An adult colouring book and some felt tip pens

A warm orange had and some gloves

She placed all the things in a shiny blue bag

It was all ready to go with her love!

Georgina wrote a card with the present

‘’I’ve enjoyed putting this hamper together ….

I hope it brings you a smile and some fun.

And I wish you health and happiness during 2021!’’

And so it was that my friend in need

Opened her door on Christmas morning to find

The present from this caring lady

Who’d done something so very kind

It did indeed make my friend feel happy and loved

On a Christmas Day like no other.

Next year I’ll be preparing a present like Georgina’s

And give so much more thought to another.

Chris Rowe

January 2021

Does God Give You an Allowance?

It’s taken her well into later years to know she’s had her share.

God has given her her allowance and she’s thankful.

It’s no good wishing for the stars and moon.

What is the point unless you have a silver spoon?

And working at life’s not an easy game.

There’s no two ways about it, not one of us is the same.

To get where we are today most of us suffer some sort of pain.

In some cases more than others we are the ones to blame.

She’s had her chances and she’s made some wrong choices.

Perhaps she was listening to the serpent’s voices.

She’s had her share of passion and love, excitement and fun.

She’s been there, done that. Ha, the Tee shirt she won!

She played the game, admits there was no one else to blame.

Even tried the grass on the other side

But it was only slightly a different shade of green.

Kisses that sent her to a different world.

Rockets soared and exploded, yeah, the rest is left untold.

But with the good there comes the bad.

A paradise lost, happiness turned sad.

So yes. She’s got all that she’s allowed and she’s thankful.

She enjoyed most of it, fell down and picked herself up.

Lots of rough times and good times, some really tough.

But contentment is a gift hard won.

She’s got all she’s allowed and she’s thankful.

Frank Sinatra sang, “Regrets, I’ve had a few.”

And she’s had a few that I know of.

She’s read somewhere that God only gives you what He knows you can endure.

She’s had many questions for Him in that department that is for sure.

But whatever she’s done, wherever she’s been,

If she hurt anyone she repented – now her conscience is clean.

Her fortunes are her children and grateful for good health

She swapped her Lamborghini for grandchildren. They’re her wealth.

SHE’S GOT ALL THAT SHE’S ALLOWED AND SHE’S THANKFUL.

Lorna

December 2020

Freedom

I opened up the wardrobe where the clothes hung, forgotten, within.

I don’t think I’ll be wearing them now I’m not that slim!

I can’t wear the pretty dresses as we don’t go out any more.

But it’s given me a sense of freedom which I didn’t have before!

I don’t wear make-up on my face, it lies redundant in the drawer

with mascara, eye shadow and lipstick

it’s not needed any more.

I like the sense of freedom that I didn’t have before!

I picked up a box the other day and as I turned the clasp,

the lid flew open and what it revealed almost made me gasp.

I’d forgotten about all my jewellery, as I don’t wear it any more

and it’s given me a sense of freedom that I didn’t have before.

My underwear lies, forlornly in the drawer. Frilly things I never wear.

They only come out for parties which we don’t go to any more.

The restrictions of a tier system, mean we can’t travel very far.

So in a desperate bid for freedom, I’ve thrown away my bra!

What Shall I Do about Christmas?

What shall I do about Christmas?

I've been pondering this for a while.

Our family times with games – some silly,

They always raise a smile.

But this year is so different.

The virus has done its worst.

We've been in and out of lock-down,

It really has been such a curse.

We have had this for nearly a year

And times have been very sad.

We have come through a lot together -

It could have driven us mad.

But we've all looked out for each other,

We've cared, supported, cried, sometimes smiled.

We've gladly met up whenever we could -

With our poems we've gone a bit wild!

So back to Christmas, and I've decided

That this year I'll stay at home.

The rest of the family will do the same,

And we are not going to moan.

Family, friends, we're in it together,

And at Christmas, wherever we are,

Our love and support for each other,

Will continue, and shine like the Star.

So the light will guide us in darkness,

And lead, as it did the Wise Men.

And Christmas will always be Christmas,

And we'll meet up and play games again.

Janet

Janet Southgate

A Visit from St Nicholas? Christmas 2020

‘Twas the night before Christmas,

when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

No stockings were hung by the chimney o’ernight,

because Covid-19 had given the family a fright.

There were no twinkling fairy lights, nor anything pretty

and all because of a man named Chris Whitty.

He said, “If you want Christmas you must stick to the rules,

but don’t think we’ll announce early closure of schools.”

The rules are: put Gran at the end of the table

And open as many windows as you are able.

Do not share your crockery, spoons, forks or knives.

Just think of the virus and the saving of lives.

Make sure elderly Auntie is out of your reach

And ensure that she leaves when the Queen’s made her speech.

Whatever you do, don’t sing, dance or shout

in case your saliva is sprayed all about.

Don’t drink any alcohol in case you forget

to stick to the rules, an act you’ll regret.

If you wish, you can put up a pine, fir or spruce

but you can’t have a party, just a five-day ‘truce’.

Don’t dust off the board games. You must give them a miss.

And whatever you do, don’t give Uncle a kiss!

The number of households you can mix with is three,

And just for five days, so think hard whom you’ll see.

You must stick to the rules. You can’t have a ball.

Does the virus know it’s Christmas time at all?

Please try not to fret and don’t look so glum.

There will be a vaccine. Just think - JVT and his mum.

Where’s Santa in this? Will he stay far away?

Or, as a key worker, will he come Christmas Day?

Then I heard him exclaim (all alone in my room),

“Happy Christmas to all. I will see you on Zoom.”

Alison

3^rd December 2020

Thanks a Bundle, Lord

For all life's blessings that are free,

For good things that we hear and see,

And most of all for loving me,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For Mums and Dads who've put us right,

For sisters to play and brothers to fight,

For homes where we live, for beds at night,

Thanks a bundle, Lord

For days of happiness, and joys,

For husbands, wives, our girls and boys

who drive us mad with all their noise,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For all the different things we do,

For lovely people, friendships true,

Because I'm me and you are you,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For life's long road that we all tread,

For giving us our daily bread,

For days gone by, and years ahead,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For health and strength each day to face,

For giving us a little place

within the world, our own small space,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For being there to help us through

those days when we are feeling blue,

Times when we don't know what to do,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For those we love who've gone before,

We long to see them all once more.

One day we will, of that we're sure,

Thanks a bundle, Lord.

For giving us this lovely day,

Please give us many more, we pray,

But just before 'AMEN' we say

Thanks a bundle Lord.

Daphne Askew

Indoor Cat by Kate Woodcock about Alison’s cat Ziggy

I have a cat,

His coat is black.

He sits on the arm of the chair.

With his eyes of green

He’ll give you a stare,

So beware!

If you want to sit there.

Stay very still

And maybe he will

Come and sit on your knee

And purr.

He’s a beautiful cat,

No doubt about that,

With his long and silky fur.

He’ll crouch by the door

And his eyes will implore

Me, not to go out!

He’ll chase cat-nip mouse,

All through the house,

Darting hither and thither to catch her.

Or he’ll scratch at his post,

It’s what he likes most,

Scritchery, scratchery, scratcher.

He likes to pretend

He can e-mail a friend

And sit at the computer for hours.

He begins to stir,

And with a trembling purr

He flexes his claws as he stretches

Then he flies from the room,

Like a witch on a broom.

He’s a longing and lust for milk.

Then feeling replete,

He’ll stealthily creep,

To sleep,

In the back of the deepest armchair.

I love that cat

His coat is jet black,

As he regards me with jade green eyes,

And I?

I am mesmerised!

Reading Is Good for You

Reading is good for you.

Not the Berkshire market town,

but novels, poems, biographies;

any book you can’t put down.

So ….

When you feel under stress

and your life is a mess,

read a book.

When you need a new scheme,

plan, idea, or a theme,

read a book.

When you can’t retain facts

and words slip through the cracks,

read a book.

When you want to learn more

to boost your IQ score,

read a book.

When you can’t get to sleep

and you’re fed up of sheep,

read a book.

When you feel low and sad

and you’d rather be glad,

read a book.

When you’ve got too much leisure

and you need to find pleasure,

read a book.

When you want to stay sane

and strengthen your brain,

read a book.

Alison

August 2020

Pies

Matilda told such dreadful lies

But she did confess she loved her pies.

And you remember Desperate Dan?

His cow pies made him twice the man.

We leave out Santa’s favourite dish –

Mince pies – so he will grant our wish.

At every local football match

The pies go swiftly down the hatch.

I shouldn’t like a blackbird pie

They should be flutt’ring in the sky!

And Banner Cross ate pies of meat

To help make Christian Aid complete.

So ……… We love a pie

O me, O my. And when we die,

Pie in the sky?

Jackie

November 2020

NORTHUMBERLAND

Not had a trip here for a couple of years!

Over the Scottish border for a few days in Beautiful Beadnell.

Remembering wonderful family times here.

The sunshine is here in the North East.

Hiking a beautiful Coastal Walk – it was over 10 miles!

Understanding that this would be a quiet trip with more restrictions.

Missing seeing our dear friends – as the Geordies are back in Lockdown.

Blessed to be in Bamburgh

Enjoying some fish from the Smokehouse in Craster

Running quite a speedy 5k on the Coastal Road

Loving every moment and wishing we could stay longer

Ambling along in Amble – with a Spurelli’s ice cream

Not enough time to visit the Farne Islands this trip.

Dad will be looking down on us enjoying the places of his childhood.

Chris Rowe

To Dad on his 90^th Birthday

Ageing Dad in chair

With the grizzled hair.

Do memories of the years –

Laughter, joy and tears –

Bring pleasure to your heart,

Gladden its every part?

Dad, your children know

What to you they owe.

Love, care in many things.

The chance to spread their wings.

Sheer hardworking pluck,

Your answer to ill-luck.

A father to admire with energy afire.

With ever-active mind,

Yet sensitive and kind.

You’ve set your heart in gold.

Cast in love’s deep mould.

So, ageing Dad in chair

Enjoy your memories there.

Aileen Hopkinson

December 1984

The following poem is dedicated to our esteemed friend, Bob Mellers, who has given his permission for it to be printed

Oh For A Good Night’s Sleep

Now there’s pocket-sprung or continuous coil, even open-coil and memory foam.

Complicated to most people but for some it’s their family’s history, passed down from home to home.

Imagine having to sleep on a mattress filled with horsehair as they did long, long ago.

Now we’ve many choices like coil-springs, synthetic fibres. Damask-sprung to lie on, head to toe.

For a peaceful slumber let me lay,

On luxurious softness. Not a mattress filled with straw and hay!

In the olden days they had metal beds, with springs squeaky and rusty.

And a mattress that was filled with RAGS, all mouldy and dusty.

Oh to have a good night’s sleep at the end of the day

And sink into a soft, satin-cushioned sprung mattress, close my eyes to the world and drift away.

Well I’ve been to BENSON’S*, they reckon they’re the best,

And DREAMS*, they say that THEIR beds will give you a blissful rest.

I’ve laid on a “SLEEPEEZEE” a “SILENT NIGHT” and a “SEALY”.

It’s hard to choose one, and they’re not cheap! No! Really!!

But whichever I choose, whether single, double or king-size.

At the end of the day, when I close my eyes

Do I care about these so-called pockets and springs?

I just want to sleeeeeep and have wonderful dreams.

Lorna

October 2020

When My Sheffield Boomed

We’ve got Benjamin Huntsman to thank for inventing the crucible process of steel.

Imagine what it was like before. We can’t. It doesn’t seem real.

But that was in 1742, old Sheffield town, all farms and fields.

Our fast-flowing rivers provide what was needed to drive the water wheels.

As far back as 1297 the history books mention a Robert “The Cutler” paying his taxes.

SEE! We were already by then grinding our blades, knives and axes.

Our land gave us iron ore, millstone grit, coal and clay.

Life must have been quite simple then. Back in the day.

But they DID slog at their labour and tarried at their skill

Working all God’s hours, the dust making them ill.

Even Geoffrey Chaucer in the 14^th century in his “Reeve’s Tale” saying our dreary and dirty old town

Acknowledges that Sheffield for its metalwork was renowned.

In 1743 along came Thomas Boulsover and he invented silver plate.

Our town, not yet a city was now becoming great.

But at what cost?

Vulcan was our god and through our name we found fame.

WHEN SHEFFIELD BOOMED.

You’ve heard of Henry Bessemer in 1855?

He patented his Bessemer process and we really did come alive.

Making steel more available to build a new world.

For skyscrapers, girders, bridges and railroads.

The Industrial Revolution.

AND SHEFFIELD BOOMED.

Furnaces spewing out an inferno. Poor men.

Day and night, they suffer again and again.

Our forefathers sweating with the heat from the ovens.

Forges and kilns needed to be fed like their children.

The tedious toil. The eternal slog.

As the tongues of fire glowed through the filthy thick smog.

And the dark and dismal houses. The narrow back to back streets.

When the sky rained soot and only the furnaces gave heat.

THIS WAS WHEN SHEFFIELD BOOMED.

Wildfire in the steel works. Sparks could send you blind.

This was Lucifer’s hell, Sheffield was a fire-box, men must have lost their mind.

THEY fed the molten steel in and out of the crucibles like lava day and night.

The factories never sleeping and the town always alight.

The crashing, the endless banging. The never-ending thud.

No wonder my poor dad had bad hearing in the end.

Joining the thousands of men marching down dingy streets in their hobnailed boots, hunched against wind, snow and rain.

Knowing there was nowhere else to go, this was their life, their pain.

I SHIVER WHEN I THINK WHAT HIS LIFE WAS BACK THEN.

WHEN SHEFFIELD BOOMED.

I remember him coming home with this haversack and billy can.

I know he worked hard but he never let on.

And I remember too he smelled of oil and kicking his black steel-capped boots off under the table.

They never saw polish. They never had to.

But I know he lost a finger through it getting septic from some steel.

I was far too young to ask him if it hurt or “How does it feel?”

Like “How long was he off work for, did it affect us back then?”

“How did they manage for money, was there social security?” That’s what I should have asked way back when.

We always had good holidays, good Christmases, good memories too.

So thank you Walter Marshall, I wish I’d spent more time with you.

WHEN SHEFFIELD BOOMED.

Lorna

Masks and more Masks.

Maria is making masks like mad -

She's got a factory going.

It started up in lock down

And now she can't stop sewing.

We have to wear a mask in church -

And shops – and other places.

Some wear them under their nose and chins

But we wear them on our faces.

Most of us had the standard ones

Bought on the internet.

But Maria came with a smart classy one -

The best that we'd seen yet.

“I'll make you one” she said - “no probs -

What colour would you like?”

Before we knew it she'd got a list

She'll be up making them all night.

So she's taken on a helper -

A nice chap – his name is Owen.

He gets her elastic, and things on eBay

To enable her to keep going.

The money raised is building up

For our church charity.

We all would gladly have paid her

But she won't take a pen-nee!

What will she do when she’s finished?

She'll get out her yoga mat.

And as for Owen, we know what he'll do -

He'll retreat back up to his flat!

So a big THANK YOU Maria

For making some for me.

You're artistic, and kind and clever

And we'll wear them for all to see.

Janet Southgate October 2020.

Vision

Where there is no vision, the people perish.

Old Solomon got it right,

If indeed he was the one who wrote it.

You can see what he meant;

If we look no further than our nose end

That’s all we’ll see.

If we keep our eyes on the ground

We’ll see only mud or concrete.

Perhaps now, more than ever,

In these Covid times,

We need to turn our eyes upward,

Not looking behind to what used to be,

Or even just ahead, fearful for next week,

Or a cancelled Christmas.

We need women and men of vision,

To see a new world,

A new way of living

And take us with them,

Into the future.

Where there is no vision, the people perish.

Jackie

1 October 2020 (National Poetry Day 2020 – theme was Vision)

Back to Work

Well I feel like the new girl, on her first day.

New rules, PPE, walking only one way.

Walking in ‘bubbles’ with very young children.

Smiling faces, and shouting, “Walk, don’t run.”

Six months at home doing jigsaws and reading.

Lockdown was strange, isolating and shielding.

This virus is here now, part of our lives.

Wearing masks, 2 meters apart, but we still thrive.

So lovely to see the kids’ smiling faces.

Chatter, holidays, tying children’s laces.

Out in the playground, running about.

Joyous to hear the children shout.

All in all, not too bad, this first day.

Life goes on, but in a different way.

Hazel

4/9/2020

Where on Earth …… ?

Where on earth have I put me purse?

Yesterday I lost me bag;

In the olden days, when I had me wits,

But technology now has got me fuddled.

The phone should always be kept by the stairs.

Me specs have legs, more than I can claim,

I’ve tried tying knots but tissues won’t take it.

I’ll just sit still and not move a muscle.

I kid you not – I’m getting worse!

Trailed upstairs again – what a drag.

Each thing in the house was kept in its ……. place.

Me eyes are dim! and me brain is muddled.

But the mobile job could be any old wheres.

And biros run everywhere, just the same.

Whatever I touch I’m sure to break it.

And maybe life will be less of a tussle.

Jackie

4^th September 2020

Somewhere

There’s a place for us

Somewhere a place for us

But it’s cold in the open air

So we can’t meet there

There’s a time for us

Someday a time for us

Time together with time to share

Time for verse

Time for prayer

Someday

Somewhere

We’ll find a new way of meeting

Where there’s some air and some heating

Somewhere

There’s a place for us

A time and place for us

Is it Zoom where we’ll meet on screen?

Is it church where we’ll have to clean?

Somehow

Someday

Somewhere

Alison

30 September 2020

(channelling Stephen Sondheim)

This is Me

Lord, this is me.

Not always liking what I am, or the image that I see.

Lord, You have said

That in Your image I am made,

But that's a hard act to live up to, and I am afraid

that there are many times in life when I fall very short

Of living life the way You did,

or doing things

I ought

Lord, this is me.

Not always with a smiling face, or feeling full of glee.

Lord, You know very well

that sometimes life is hell,

and at other times it's grand.

But there are many things in life we'll never

understand.

Lord, this is me.

Not always being kind and good as You would have me be.

Lord, You listen to my problems

When I want to pray.

Help me to have the time for others,

Not to walk

away.

Lord, this is me.

Different I wish I was, but cannot seem to be.

Lord, You have said

You will make all things new.

So I pray that when You say

“All things” You mean

“All people” too.

Daphne Askew

No Time

I woke up late one morning

And rushed into the day.

With all the jobs I had to do,

I didn’t have time to pray.

Hurrying children up to school

Who dragged their feet on the way,

And the day was getting hotter, still,

I just didn’t have time to pray.

Walking dogs into the park,

There wouldn’t be time to play,

I was in such a hurry,

That I couldn’t have time to pray.

The hours were getting busier,

I had cakes to make that day,

And in my haste I burnt one,

Now there would never be time to pray.

I dashed through the housework,

Missing out lunch on the way,

Waging war on dust and dirt,

I just couldn’t stop to pray.

By the evening I was tired,

And exhausted I laid on my bed,

It was then that I remembered

What is was that God had said.

“When your life is getting harder,

And you need help with any task,

Just take a few minutes to speak to me,

You only have to ask.”

I woke up the next morning,

Thinking about the new day,

I put my hands together,

And took a few moments to pray!

Kate

THE GHOST CHURCH

I quietly opened the doors to the church and thought, “There's no-one there.”

It was strange, they did not see me. Or if they did, they didn't care.

There was an air about my church; I'd never experienced before.

I was frightened, I can tell you, but something led me through the door.

Over in the choir stalls there's jolly Mary-Jayne.

Laughing with Ann Roberts who I thought I'd never see again.

Roger's deep in conversation with Bob Chambers and Margaret Lawford,

And near the vestry, Duncan's looking for his drum-kit in a cupboard.

Leonora's noticed him having trouble with it

And in her own sweet way asks. "Are you alright?" And helps a little bit.

Harold Ullyatt's sitting over there, he seems in a little trance.

I bet he's thinking of his wife and how they use to dance.

Oooo, look who’s standing with lovely Helen and hubby Trevor.

They’re reminiscing with Betty Watson, same surname, but not related, I’m sure

It’s Margaret Elliott. "Hey Margaret! Look it's me!"

She's collecting hymn books with Madge Forrest, then they'll make the tea.

The Women’s Network is busy organising June Emerson's famous strawberry tea.

Gwen Metcalf says she'll bake some scones, she's such a busy bee.

Jean Shelley's chatting to Ann Chambers and Beattie Gladwin too.

All happy with their jobs for June's garden, there's always tons to do.

Shirley Coates and husband Bryan are setting out their stall

With leaflets for leukaemia research to give to one and all.

THEIR DEDICATION IS NEVER ENDING.

Jean Jackson's sharing memories with dapper Sidney. What a man!

And with them it's Bill Franklin. I can only just remember him.

Busy on the platform Betsy Ginn is getting ready for

Her sermon on Sunday, I wonder what she's got in store ….. for us.

It's a parade service and Gillian Speed makes sure the Girl Guide flag is on display.

While Joan Rowe moves out for Thelma. No wheel-chair now. Don't get in her way!

(whisper)

They don't see me there.

I close the door.

I'm not wanted …….

Yet.

Lorna

August 2020

Jesus and Zacchaeus

Zacchaeus was an important man.

He oversaw the collection of tax.

He tried to see who Jesus was

but all he saw was backs.

He was such a little man

that he couldn’t see through the crowd.

So when he saw a sycamore tree

he made his voice very loud.

“Move out of my way, please. Let me through.

I’m going to climb that tree!

I need to see the Teacher

so please make way for me!

When Jesus walked up to that tree

He looked up and told Zac to come down.

“Hurry, Zacchaeus, I must stay at your house

in the far side of Jericho town.”

Zacchaeus then jumped down to the ground

and welcomed the Lord with a grin.

But the people started grumbling,

“Why’s He staying with a man who sins?”

Zacchaeus stood up and said to the Lord,

“I’ll give half my goods to the poor,

and if I have cheated anyone,

I’ll pay him back for sure.”

Jesus said, “This man descends from Abraham

And he’s just gained salvation.

I’ve come to seek and save the lost

of each and every nation.

Alison

August 2020

Thoughts about what I miss most. Kate Woodcock

The cupboards are full of crisps and snacks,
And chocolate biscuits in the tin.
It's all because of lockdown
That the children can't come in.

There are no train tracks on the floor
No hazards over which to fall,
It's all because of lockdown
That the children do not call.

There is no tinkling laughter
Of happiness at play,
It's all because of lockdown
That the children cannot stay.

The house is strangely quiet,
No music and no words.
It's all because of lockdown
That the children can't be heard.

We can watch our own television,
And use our mobile phone,
It's all because of lockdown
The teenagers aren't at home.

We thought we'd like a peaceful house,
And time spent on our own
But it's all because of lockdown,
That the house is not like home.

We want to hear the laughter,
Noise and clutter all around,
Please let's come out of lockdown
So the family can come round!!!!

What Lockdown Means to Me

Church not open for the foreseeable.

Outdoor exercise and fresh air.

Random acts of kindness.

Opportunity to learn new skills.

No visitors during lockdown.

Anxious thoughts every day.

Video calls via Zoom in my living-room.

Infection rate. Is it up or down today?

Rainbows and yellow hearts in windows.

Unprecedented times.

Seeing friends waving across the street.

Protect the NHS and the Shielded.

Anti-bac gel, mask and gloves.

New normal.

Daily Coronavirus Briefings.

Enjoying Class challenges, quizzes and tales.

Matt, Boris, Chris and Patrick.

Is it okay to ……. ?

Caring calls, candles, and camomile tea.

Alison

June 2020

Reflections of the last few weeks

I want a lockdown!

We remember hearing on the News

Everyday updates and everyone’s views

We tried to grasp what this would mean

All our lives would change due to Covid-19

The Leadership Team said we’d meet soon

But not face to face – on something called Zoom!

What the heck is that? We all asked Tim.

It’s a bit like Facetime – while we’ve got to stay in.

Well obviously Rachel knew just what to do

And Tim had some lessons so he knew it too.

Those first few times it was a real pain.

But we got used to it when we tried again.

‘’What on earth is a Virtual’’ asked Mr T.

Well there won’t be a patient to actually see.

You ring the lady while she’s at home -

And she describes her problems on the phone!

Three ladies have arrived, who were having a call.

And some with appointments haven’t come at all!

Have you gelled your hands, have you come very far?

Is your partner waiting in the car?

So with the changes in clinic and no operations

We knew we’d be going to different stations

We were all really worried about going somewhere strange

There’d be such a lot to rearrange.

I’d like a lockdown of my own

I’d dearly love to stay at home

I don’t really want to know what’s in store

I just want to be with my mother-in-law.

But then we couldn’t see her and my world fell apart

Not visiting her just broke my heart

I would do my best at work instead

That way nothing would mess with my head

Now at last we knew – no buts, no maybes

Just like that we were helping the babies!

We were together – which had been one of our fears.

Though I hadn’t worked nights for 20 years!

But May brought more sadness – where will it all end

It’s now claimed the life of our very good friend

We lined the streets to say our goodbye

It all feels too much now – I can’t tell a lie.

It’s best not to use the bus to come in,

According to the 5 o’clock bulletin.

You should drive or walk or have a bike ride.

But you can park for nothing now – and right outside!

When trying to perform an intricate task

You get all hot and bothered under your mask.

You find you’re not drinking or going for a wee.

As it means ‘’donning and doffing’’ your PPE.

I run and I walk and have coffee on zoom

And follow worship material in the afternoon

On my days off I don’t mind staying at home

At least it’s a ‘’mini lockdown’’ all of my own.

And all in all I feel so blessed

I’ve not got ill and my friends are the best

When all this is over and we’re back together

I will treasure you all forever and ever.

Chris Rowe

Lockdown:

Goodness gracious what can this mean,

Everything must stop, because of Covid 19,

This dreadful virus, is making humans sick

The NHS must find oxygen & PPE double quick,

Thousands are dying, so many are grieving,

Families, friends & neighbours are weeping.

The Doctors, Nurses, porters & cleaners,

Supermarkets, drivers, posties, teachers,

The folks making scrubs, visors & masks,

So many are helping, they were not asked,

The teachers working hard to put lessons on-line,

The Keyworkers children, go to school on time.

The roads are empty of traffic right now,

The birdsong is beautiful & how.........

The deer & the goats are running round town,

It’s really quite strange, we try not to ‘get down’

But ‘isolate’ we must, to keep the infection rate low,

FaceTime, WhatsApp & now Zoom, do you know?

This new way of life is not easy my friends,

But if we all ‘pull together’, we can see an end,

Lockdown is easing, people getting about,

The numbers are slowing, let’s give a shout,

To our wonderful ‘keyworkers’ & volunteering,

Thank you, you are amazing, let’s lift our voices & sing!

Thanks

Hazel xx

Thoughts on the lock down

I'm sitting here and looking out

with my morning cup of tea,

and thinking of all the places

where I would like to be.

But most of all, the people

that I would love to see.

I miss you all, but I know you're there -

You may even miss me!!

I don't know how long this will last,

but I fear it could go on

for longer than we'd like it to -

so we just need to keep strong.

We're all in this together,

so we need to find a way

of keeping close whilst staying apart,

and carrying on, come what may.

Some will have to go to work

and face the risks each day.

Many help others to stay safe -

So for them all we pray.

What WILL we look like when we meet

after all these months locked down?

Lots of us will have long hair -

some grey – a few still brown!

So until that day when we all meet up,

whenever that may be,

God bless you all, keep safe and well,

With lots of love…..from 'me'.

Janet.

Lock-down Experience of 10 June 2020

Here I am again with my morning cup of tea.

Catching up with the latest news on BBC TV.

I'm also thinking 'which job first?', as I make my morning plan,

When suddenly the screen goes blank – sound, but no picture – damn!

(am I allowed to say that?)

I switch it off, then on again, as I've been told to do.

No joy, so I unplug it all, and fetch another brew.

I try again, but nothing – only sound, so that's no good,

So on the phone to my 'SKY' man – he's always understood.

But this time it's impossible, and after half an hour

Of kneeling on the floor, (poor knees) the SKY man says “Well now

We'll have to get a technician out, I'll see what I can do.

Earliest is Friday, before one, well certainly by two.

“Now this is what will happen in line with Covid safety plan -

He'll wear a mask, gloves, visor too, and shoe coverings” - good man!

And I will have to wear a mask, and social distance too.

Well that won't be a problem – I'll probably hide in the loo.

So it's all arranged, I'll leave it there and carry on with my day.

Tea time now, and preparing my meal in the kitchen, not far away.

Time for the 'briefing' – must hear that – no picture, but sound is okay

So I turn up the volume, at least I can still hear what they've got to say.

Part way through, I come into the room and 'Hey Presto'! the picture is here

All by itself – with no help from me, and I let out a great big cheer!

I jump up and down with joy (well, nearly!), it almost sent me up the wall.

I must be on the phone in the morning to cancel the SKY man's call

Greetings from The Fens

Just sending love across from the Fens to all the lovely people at Banner Cross in these difficult times. Have missed visits to Janet when I have really looked forward to seeing you, hopefully it won't be too long before we can do this again.

Love to you all. Keep safe.

God bless,

Daphne & Andrew Askew

Daf's Poem

Our Janet's suddenly started saying everything in rhyme,

I'm just a little worried, although it's not a crime.

It's not a problem really – she could do a whole lot worse,

But every time I speak to her, her reply comes back – in verse!

With all this social distancing, and rules they've put in place

She cannot play the organ, and she's treading in my space.

So all you friends at Banner Cross, I'm appealing now to you -

Keep ringing her, and whatsapp her – keep the emails coming through.

That way she'll be so busy, there won't be a moment free,

And once again, with a bit of luck I'll be the Queen of Poetry.

On a note more serious now, we're regularly in touch.

My Lock-down Visit to Chiropodist

Things are starting to open up

Albeit in a different way.

My Chiropodist was in business again

And a visit to him I should pay.

I knew I should go before too long,

Although I was rather unsure.

I've been strict with my self distancing,

And cross with those who ignore.

But how was it going to work out?

Two metres between him and me?

My leg is not long enough to achieve that,

And he needs to be able to see.

Well, Paula had been there before me,

So reassured it would be okay

I got on the phone to arrange it -

I went last Wednesday.

He told me that he would be geared up

In mask and gloves – visor too,

And I had to wear a mask as well,

And there was now no use of his loo!

I had to arrive as near on time

As was possible to do.

I parked up in the car, and waited

In a space where I had a good view.

What happened next really amused me.

The door shutter clattered away,

And then just an arm, clad in white with a glove

Appeared, and was pointing my way.

It was my turn now, and he ushered me in

And pointed to hand sanitiser,

While he settled down to do a good job

With the help of his scalpel and visor.

My feet feel so good, I'm relieved now,

We're all hunky dory and fine.

I shan't be nervous to go again -

I'll see him in six weeks time.

Janet.

Reflection from Caroline:

Covid took us all by surprise!
To its challenge we all did rise!
Shoulder by shoulder our faith glued us together
And for sure has been helped by the glorious weather!

Strange times for sure!
But these times have been here before!
Christians through and through
Our faith prevails and God to his word will always be true

         God Bless Everyone
                    From Caroline

Lockdown Hair

Our hair is growing longer
As the days go passing by.
It never looks neat and tidy,
No matter how we try.

Every day is Bad Hair Day,
And all the constant sun,
Only makes it drier
And really that's no fun.

The wind and rain don't help it
When we go out for our walk,
And neighbours do not know us
When we stop by for a talk.

The colour has all but faded.
The grey is showing through.
It's looking very stripey
Like a zebra in the zoo!!

We wear it up,
We wear it down,
We don't know how we'll get through.
Oh,when can we see a hairdresser?
She'll know what to do !!!!!I
Kate.

My Nails, Hair and Teeth in Lockdown

I have managed to cut my nails

but I haven’t touched my hair.