The Seeder of Lebanon

A little bird nibbles on a kernel 

Camouflaged in the thick of leaves 

Enjoying its share of ‘natural’ morsel. 

Filled, it flits away to life on wing 

Subsistence on earth’s windy swing. 

 Gliding into the ever shifting breeze 

It ascends with the breath of the earth 

Flapping away to nestle in other trees. 

And as it flies it drops a tiny little seed. 

An offering from above, for earth to feed. 

 This seed nestles in earths comfort 

Until the rains awakens life 

 And the sun incubates it to shoot forth. 

Once a diminutive seed, now a cedar 

An organism, a stronghold, a shelter. 

 And around this tree, unhurriedly at first 

Life breathes and multiplies and grows 

Till from a seedling soon a forest bursts. 

An abundant thankfulness of love 

To a drop, a little gift from above. 

 A little bird nibbles on a kernel 

When a clattering, cutting shakes the tree. 

 Tree to wood brought down with metal. 

The little bird escapes in fright 

Flies smack, straight, into an electric light. 

 There then lies dead another mighty cedar 

 There then lies Lebanon’s tiny little seeder.

Early

It’s an early day, starts while it’s still dark
She stretches and drags her sleepy head
Got to take all the children to the park
But first, have to drag them all out of bed.
She’s in charge of them, this early little lark

She’s running around and never turning sore
These last few years have been hard and full
Washing and cleaning and cooking and more
Lunch bags, office packs and children to school
Car cleaned, house swabbed and all on the go.

Into an envelope she packs her small wages
And thinks of good times and those at home.
Then drops it into the post with little kisses
A tiny tear spent for that moment alone.
A little heart broken of a home she misses.

And she’s back at work, no more time given
As sadness and thought won’t pay labour.
She works right through, from five to eleven
A home-maker, cleaner, adviser, care taker
This little house maid, she’s only about eleven.


Child labour still exists in many parts of the world

A Prayer for Harmony

Do we have time any more for music, praise, or just a smile? 

 Have we noticed nature's bounteous beauty or the colour of the sky? 

 God's creations have inspired writers to create music of praise. 

 About the morning, the black bird, and beauty, and grace. 

 The songwriter once inspired by butterflies, birds and Gods gifts replete, 

 Now searches for poetry in automation, silicon and contol + alt + delete.

 Teach our children the message of love through song, 

 That they can share with friends and all around. 

 Thank you for blessing us with the gift of sound, 

 Without which we'll be lost and completely dumb found. 

 And with these gifts help us with joy to share, 

 And bring happiness to people who are sad and in despair. 

 Rhythm has not found her vowel, but sings in harmony. 

 In the same way let me swallow pride and sing to glorify. 

 Help me to use my talents, and if I feel, I haven't any 

 Help me seek and find them, and use them differently. 

 And when my voice cracks and music falls like a broken string

 Let me be thankful for hearing, and voices around me, that still can sing.