Some Ancient Historians hard at work in class in August 2014

Learning to be qui-ick....

God give your grace
to us so we
will show your face.
This is our plea.

Your face, like ours,
has two big ears.
Listenin' for hours
before your tears.

You give your rain
to wicked too.
They stand to gain
from what you do.

Yet you don't mind
they are your kids,
Surely we'll find
some hit the skids,

and turn around,
turned into lambs,
zombies unfrowned,
(that's what I am).

I see I need,
more than to breathe,
to listen/heed
You and believe

that you will keep
Your word, and do
what you said - reap
a harvest True.

Oh that we'll let
Your seed take root
deep in us yet
to bear much fruit.

Amen. Amen!

Good&HappyBirthday2U________!

Good thinking of you, 

somewhere in God's world;

God's dinkum true-blue,

with His flag unfurled!

God who has blessed you

with your life on earth

make you to shine true,

more, further from birth...

though, when we are born

we're fresh from God's-self

with pain at be'ng torn

and put on a shelf

(in a baby's crib)

but not "to his heart",

well that's a "fib";

more closeness can start!

After our birthday

is when we can start

to honour Daddy,

take Mummy to heart...

..seems like at our birth

we're torn from our "folk",

and baby's quick mirth

can seem like a joke,

for that comes after

much crying and pain

but we'd be dafter

if we don't think again.

..seems like we've "walked out"

(and we have, of "Mum's tum")

but friendship's no doubt

stronger than a bomb!

A growing "i am";

and that's no small thing,

bourne by the "I AM"

from whom ev'rything

in Heaven, on Earth,

and inside the Sun -

under its hot surf-

-ace, his LIFE keeps on..

..begun to be spread

all over the place

in folk who were dead,

and too in your face:

Sam t' Hart

Some doggerel: "Good night to the Gigers cats"

Good night to you Gigers,
rest quiet and fierce,
a lair full of tigers
till the daybreak appears.

Quick to dispose of things
which should be got rid of.
Gladly repose as kings,
will chew what they've bit off.

Just like those birds- spurrows,
who don't worry or fret,
may brows have no furrows,
Life be more than Regret.