Christine Pashley, a resident of Conisbrough for 20 years has sent us a selection of her poems What do you see?
He wanders aimlessly through the streets
And kicks the can about
He´s rude to everyone he meets
And is branded just a lout.
But he is living just like you
But do you really care?
Do you think “That could be my child too”
Or do you merely condemn and stare?
Our Lord told us to love each child
And through them the kingdom find
Did he only say the meek and mild
No he meant children of all kinds.
This child did not request it´s birth
Nor choose its dwelling place
Do we have to measure his worth
Before we show a smiling face
He´s used to insult and abuse
He´s harder than you think
But deep within his heart cries out
Will you offer him a drink
Can you be sure that´s not our Lord
Who stands and kicks the dust
Don´t children deserve to hear God´s word
Peace not violence, love not lust.
We walk the path to glory
With children lagging behind
But surely they should be in front
An example to mankind.
A young child´s heart is so open
It´s life that bars the way
So let´s keep those doors from closing
By witnessing to them each day.
They are the future of our church
But so many lambs have gone
Would Christ have let them stray away
No- He would search for every one
And we must all do the same
And reach out to every child
And witness to them in Jesus name
Until the lambs are safe inside
Walk with me
O my child you weep for that which is lost
When all around is abundant treasure
You are surrounded by silver and gold
And yet you mourn for lead and iron
The empty packages will fly away in the wind
Their contents long forgotten, yet what you see now
Is real Eternal and Everlasting
Stop doubting now in life and trust
Your hand in mine securely held
Come walk along the path with me
And drink and eat from My vast store
I love you child, forever mine, you´ll walk with me forever more,
Sometimes you´ll stumble, sometimes fall,
But I´ll be there to pick you up,
I´ll wipe your tears and dust you down
Encourage you when you´re fed up.
But sometimes you´ll wander off
To pick the flowers over there,
I´ll wait and watch you where you go
And often shout out loud “Take care”
Sometimes you´ll listen, sometimes not
And when you don´t I ache for you
You cannot trust that I know best
And what I say is right and true
But lessons learnt fom blood that´s shed
Are very seldom lost to view.
And on your return I´ll bandage you
And heal you with my loving touch.
And you will cry and say “No more”
and I´ll forgive, I love so much
And once again you´re on my road
Your hand securely held in mine
We walk as one, I share your load
Towards that city so divine.
The road is narrow hard to climb
And often easier ways are seen,
But I just whisper “Take your time,
And when you´re tired just on me lean”
Come walk with me, O child of mine
And see what treasures wait for you.
I died for you that you might find
That I am, was and will be true.
Just set your eyes upon the cross
And set your feet upon my road
And think of Victory, not of loss
And cut away sins heavy load
I wait for you with open arms
And many long to welcome you
Within my armour free from harm
To walk secure and straight and true
And every step shout constantly
I LOVE YOU LORD, AND YOU LOVE ME
Lake District thoughts
Like undulating folds of drapers cloth
Your mountains seem to go,
And what a myriad host of colours
Each one has on show.
The purple of the heather,
greens of every hue,
Here and there is brackish brown
Or bare grey rock to view.
While at the lakeside you provide a mirror
For all that you have made,
So whether our eyes look up or down,
Your handiwork is displayed.
It´s like looking at a canvas,
Yet each brush stroke breathes with life.
How many eyes have gazed on it,
And found refreshment from their strife?
But many more have passed it by,
Too hurried to look up,
Their lives so full of emptiness
Fulfilments round the bend.
But each promising bend reveals
Another empty road,
And so they travel on life´s way
With an ever daunting load.
If only they would stop and look
At what you´re showing them
Acknowledge there´s a Creator
Who wants to meet with them.
These mountains and these lakes will be here
When our generations gone
When we´ve all returned
To the same brown earth
That I now look upon.
And gradually I realise
That my instant here of life
Is nothing when I compare it
To my promised heavenly time
But while I wait for that time Lord
I pray that I´ll never lose
My wonder at your handiwork
And the beauty of these views.
The Rosebud
The gardener picked the rosebud up
He cradled it in his hands
Stroking the frost touched petals
He wept for what was lost.
Never would this flower bloom,
As it was meant to do,
That bitter touch had snatched away
Such glory from his view.
He knew that many more would come,
To fill this bud´s small space
And each would blossom and would fade
Within this dwelling place
But still he mourned for this little one
That though he cared so much
The frosty fingers had claimed their prize
And stopped what He´d begun.
But then deep within Him
A hope begun to stir
That warmth and love inside His house
Might bring the dead to life.
He carried in the rosebud
And gently laid it down
He fetched the jar of water
And put the flower in
Then quietly bent and kissed it
So that the healing could begin.
His love flowed in that water
And his warmth thawed out the cold.
The rose unfurled her petals
Her richness was on view
He smiled as he bent to touch it,
As he caressed her silken sheen
And he knew it had been worth it
Now her beauty could be seen.
That rosebud grew in my garden
For just a little time
Until death with his icy fingers
Tried to say “She´s mine”
But my Lord was my gardener
And he took her into His house
And He breathed into her His eternal life
So she could bloom for Him.
I´ve watered my daughter´s memory
With many, many tears
And I´ve asked Him -Why?
And He´s answered me
And now I know for sure
That when my turn comes to go to Him
My daughter will be my guide.
Christine Pashley