The Parish Church of St George the Martyr, Waterlooville
Summer Edition 2013
“I’d like a poem”
said little Jane.
Then later mentioned it again;
“It has to scan …
It has to rhyme.
There’s no great hurry, take your time.”
So I sat down and thought a bit…
Then wrote her one…
And this is it!
The Hall Clock
For forty years and five, I’ve told
The time in houses new and old:
In every corner of the home
My voice still makes the hour known.
I never grouse when folk abuse,
Or say they’d rather hear the News
When I am chiming; just in case
You cannot see my hands and face.
At dead of night, when all’s asleep,
My watch on darkest hours I keep:
So if you toss and turn, or wake,
Or lie and wait for dawn to break,
My voice is sure to tell the time -
The hours I strike and quarters chime.
Upon the wall I hang quite numb
To incidents, and also dumb -
And yet I speak, as I have said,
Forget to wind me… I am dead.
Though the years have tired my springs,
Mechanical wheels and inner things;
Though time has worn a harsher sound
And slower move my hands around;
My bells, the milestones of the minutes,
Record the passing of the infinite.
Gillian M Griffiths
Desmond the Owl
Desmond the owl, was wearing a scowl,
For some bounder had kidnapped his dinner.
For as Desmond said, an owl needs to be fed,
If a chap’s not to get any thinner.
“Oh no” said his Mum, who had him under her thumb.
“A diet is just what you’re needing.
With a belly your size, and those popping out eyes,
No way can you say you need feeding.”
And so with a tear dripping over each ear,
And his beak tucked well into his tummy,
He trudged off to bed, and laid down his soft head,
And dreamt he was eating his Mummy!
The Sweet Reunion
Right sudden against my face -
Great eyes astonished mine -
Did flap me on either cheek to dry the spray!
I started first, as some Arcadian
Amazed at piping Pan in twilight grove;
But as the bounding vision closer ran,
My tears dried, I knew Sandy, and rose above
Surprise and sadness, thanking my Creator and God,
Who by such creatures, leads to heights of love.