My Christmas poem

 Bernard

We plodded all the way from Nazereth

With all the other crowds along the road

The lady sat on my back among the bundles

The man walking with his staff holding the rope

All I wanted was to arrive and get some rest

And at last we arrived at their destination.

The town was crowded but he found an inn

Came back to say there were no rooms

The only resting place was the stable with me

The lady agreed weary from riding and ready

To lie down and rest even with the animals.

I did not mind as long as it was warm.

It was peaceful in the stable where I rested

The lady started groaning and  women came

Soon there was the cry of a new born baby

The man took away my feeding trough

Filled it with straw and laid the baby on top

There was a golden glow over the manger.

All went quiet again and I settled down until

Outside there was the sound of rough voices

Men came into the stable, shepherds by looks

They knelt down by the baby and handed a lamb

It was strange but they talked of bright lights

And angels singing and telling them to come.

For days it was mainly quiet with a few people 

Come to visit the baby who appeared important

There was the sound of camels outside the door

Three men in travel stained clothes entered 

Carrying wooden boxes carved and jeweled

Bowing they gave these to the woman and baby.

Today I stand waiting loaded with bags and food

We are leaving so the man said to the woman

He had been told to leave and not come back

I did not see anybody speak to him o the woman

But I am only Bernard the donkey , all I do

Is carry them where .ever they want to go

Poem of Galway Bay

A summer holiday in Ireland

Galway Bay

 

We sing

“ Watch the sun go down on Galway Bay”

But the rain pours down

The clouds race across the sky

Waves beat on the shore.

 

A Rainbow arches over the water

We race to find the end

Never reached the end of the rainbow

Or found the crock of gold

And the rain pours down

 

Huddled in the car

Watching the fishing boats

Red Blue Green

Appear out of the grey mist

Fighting the white foam

To return to harbour

And the rain pours down.

 

We never see the sun

Go down on Galway bay.

 

 

 

                                                                           

   At a  remembrance service this morning I was reminded of my father.

Here is a poem

Dad

White hair, wrinkled face and slight smile

All his life spread among those furrowed lines

Ploughed into his face by the stress and struggle

To understand the question of why this or that

Mostly of sorrow and anger but some of joy.

He never spoke about his war experiences

I had to find out from other people.

How he had left his new born son to go and fight

Or of the torpedo that dumped him in the sea

Losing the gun he had been trained to fire.

When he was rescued and back on dry land

They had found his team another gun.

They dragged  that gun through the desert sands

And up the spine of Italy into battle after battle.

Along the way, one by one, he lost his friends.

Then one day in a field there had been a bang

And he was left alone fighting a tank with a rifle.

They gave him a medal for that.

But they did not see him after he returned home

Helplessly moaning while twisting and turning in bed

The sheets soaking wet and he weak as a baby.

He came home to the brave new world but no jobs.

He learnt about the dole and the search for work

To paint liners during the winter and buildings in summer

And out of work in the spring and autumn.

No luxuries, no holidays but mum and dad managed.

Of course there was always the football to cheer you up

Though supporting Southampton was no easy ride

But we laughed and cheered together at the matches.

He was proud of his children and their education

Watching their progress with mild bewilderment.

Drink to your memories Dad and reflect

That life was not all bad but could be fun.