Poetry


	*erinlass’s Poetry Page*

		Two poems kindly sent by a sister in submissiom She knows who she is and she knows we appreciate them


	*Seasons and Life* Different Seasons are like the beginning, youth, middle and ending of all our lives. Spring is like the birth of a new-born child. As a child bursts forth from the womb, so does the buds and blooms of the trees and flowers come forth. Summer is like our youth and middle years. At first so full of life and uncontrollable growth, then finally settling down and smoothly keeping in full bloom. Fall is like our later years. All life is slowly ageing, and finally altering into something else. Winter is like our death All is sleeping quietly and peacefully, awaiting a new life. In time all life is renewed. The cycle of life goes on as before.

		*Gift of Submission* A gift it is giving of oneself body and soul. Given in submission to another. It cannot be taken, only given freely, with pride and love. Joyfully given to another in loving, acts and obedience. That other to accept and cherish this gift, with pride and love. Caring, loving, discipline and guidance. Most important to both


	*A Littledark Cloud,* by our good friend mousie She appeared quite unobtrusively on the horizon, Despite the stark contrast she brandished amongst the others, Some glanced from the corner of their eye on occasion, And spotted her amidst the dragons and horses and Silhouettes of Elvis Erudite observers sensed that the storm which brewed Within her held little significance when it came to their day-to-day, The occasional glance to track her progress took but a second And then other matters would distract one From her gloomy depths Distant thunder can be heard but quickly forgotten Stray bolts of lightning can be dodged and dismissed Each drop of rain can be tracked, but then lost As they darken the pavement and blend together Soon there will be hardly a trace The deluge from her midst would soon abate And eventually she would dissipate and vanish As others had before her But her fate lay not in our

		The Autumn by roddy The autumn rain fell pit-a-pat, the wind howled inthe night outside the cosy room lit by a fire so bright. But from inside came "pit-a-pat" and howls that were as wild as Matron sought to educate a fractious little child. Stripped of their leaves by biting gales, bare naked stood the trees and no less naked was the boy who lay on Matron's knees. and as relentless as the rain that fell on branches bare so were the blows that sternly fell upon his derriere Outside the storm has passed and left behind a still dark night And still it is inside the room lit by a fire's warm light And by the fire there is the boy, now back upon his feet but it was not the fire that put the glow upon his seat! © Copyright roddy

Nurse by roddy
There are dramas in pyjamas
when its bedtime at the school
and there's laugh time after bath time
(someone always plays the fool)
but its hush time in a rush time
when the nurse comes through the door
with her haughty "who's been naughty?"
You are going to get what for!"
Then its plea time on her knee time
saying "please, don't spank me, please!
It's looking glum for little chum
with pants pulled round his knees
There's no slacking in the smacking
and his bottom's getting red
then it's high time for a cry time
as he hops back into bed.

© Copyright roddy


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