A Poem for every day in August

I usually update this lens at 8.30 a.m. BST/GMT every day when possible. Follow me on my journey to write 365 poems this year. The subject varies as the mood takes me. Many of my poems are about my spiritual walk. I also show a love of nature and the one who created it.

If this rose were decked in green
It could be mistaken for a little cabbage,
But fortunately
It is a most glorious pink.
Its interleaving petals
Cast shadows to deepen the colour.
By any name it would smell sweet,
But another colour
Would reduce it to a vegetable.

Alone, it seems, I stand
And shout the cause,
Proclaim my Lord
Proclaim without a pause.

And no one seems to listen
To my heart-searching call.
Will no one turn to Jesus
Who gave for them his all ?

Will you turn a deaf ear
To his calling for your soul ?
Here is life he offers,
Life to make you whole.

But you pass by unheeding.
For you I still pray
And hope that you will listen
On another day.

When winter winds
So roughly blow
And bring the rain
Then heavy snow,
Still my God walks with me.

When sultry summer
Comes again,
With fruitful bough
Along the lane,
Still my God walks with me.

He loves me still
When I am bad,
Even though
It makes him sad.
Still my God walks with me.

When I am good,
He made me so.
In happy paths
I now do go.
Still my God walks with me.

When I am ill
And on my bed am found,
His love is with me
All around.
Still my God walks with me.

The day is grey,
The rain is light,
The birds still sing
And all is right.

The earth drinks in
The welcome rain
The trees rejoice
And swells the grain.

The farmer goes forth joyfully
To tend his flock with care.
The animals are flourishing
The fields are never bare.

The apples fill
On orchard tree.
The fruit is good,
Good as can be.

And so with happy hearts
So free
We worship Lord,
We worship thee.

I'm going to a show,
It's agricultural,
Don't you know.
The day is grey
But that is best
To keep us cool and
Full of Zest.

Three ladies we
Just past our prime
Will go together.
Spend the time
In pleasant company.

I must get ready
See you soon.
I'll show you photos
From this afternoon.

This old house
Is falling down
Around my ears.
It's been neglected now
For many,many years.

Everthing crumbles
If left on its own.
The landlord does nothing
No matter how I moan.

And now she wants me
Out of here.
I don't intend to go.
I have an assured tenancy
I'm acting really slow.

I love my roomy flat
For sure
I want to stay here for ever more.

I'm late, I'm late,
Something I really hate.
I like to be on time
With this little rhyme.

I like to write it in the morn
Sometimes even before the dawn.

But this time I have been so tardy.
It wouldn't do for Thomas Hardy.

But now I've caught up with this verse
I won't be feeling quite so terse.

Perhaps to morrow I will be on time
When I bring you my next rhyme.

Such wickedness
Dwells within this world,
Such disrespect and cruelty
In it is curled.

Disgraceful behaviour
Displayed to the old.
Dishonouring demeanour
Feelings so cold.

Where age demands love
Hatred is found,
Bringing our mothers
Down to the ground.

There is a God in heaven
Who sees all we do.
One day our actions
We will surely rue.

For God loves the widow
And the fatherless.
He will look down
And see their distress.

They may seem helpless
Uncared for and lone,
But God is their victor
His anger will be shown.

Repent of your actions
While time still remains,
There is forgiveness waiting
For the one who refrains.

But continue your persecutions
And judgment will fall.
Then you will be disgraced
Before us all.

I'm up early,
I,m going on a trip
Off to London
Into civilization's grip.

I am a country girl
So I'm feeling quite tense.
Will I find my way
Or will I be too dense?

Up to the big city,
Where the lights are bright.
I'm feeling all excited
My tummy feels quite tight.

For I'm a country girl at heart
And know where things are best.
I like to live in Devon
Way out in the West.

Why would a country girl
Living there all her life,
Want to go to London,
Where many dark things are rife ?

i'm just passing through
On to better things,
To the countryside of Suffolk,
To its trees and slopes and springs.

I don't like it where
The escalators run fast,
Nearly knock me off my feet
In the hall so vast.

But the people seem the same
As in any other place.
Not scary as we are sometimes warned,
Just part of the human race.

Some are loud and shout a lot,
But they're mostly good at heart.
Just as good in London
As in any other part.

I found my way from coach to tube,
Even went the right way,
Jumped right out at Victoria,
It really made my day.

Then walked to the coach station
In sunshine all the way,
Two hours early as I like,
But it was the proper day.

Some time to fill before I go
So out comes paper and pen.
I fill the hours with poetry,
What can I do then?

Just sit and breathe
Though the air's not good
As it is upon our hills.
Give me the hills and I will happily leave
To the city folks their thrills.

I met a good friend,
I hadn't seen for two years.
Friendships just take on where they left off
And we cry no tears.

We spent some time
On the PC,
Learning techniques new,
Getting on Facebook
So we can share our feelings true.

Two and a bit hours go quickly
Then off I go on my travels,
Knowing we can share online,
Tell how life unravels.

My little room is cosy
With duvet on my bed.
I've been entertained today
And very pleasantly fed.

My brother and his wife
Have welcomed me with love.
It's home from home just being here
Soft as the nest of a dove.

There's friendship here
And loving strong,
A place of refuge
All day long.

When trouble strikes
The children's home
They know to come here
No further roam.

There's always a welcome
No matter when
A place of comfort
With this mother hen.

Behind her stands
Old grumpy socks,
worried she will tire herself.
Only grumpy because he cares,
Worried for her health.

Together they are caring ones
Reaching out to others,
Reaching out to lost and lone,
Standing in place of mothers.

Helping where the helpless are,
Knowing not where to go,
Looking for some comfort
When they feel so low.

Meeting friends new and old
Is good and great.
A holiday refreshes,
But I wait for one date.

That date is the day
I return to my home.
It's good to get back
Even though it's good to roam.

There is nothing quite like
One's own routine,
Knowing how the day will go
Contemplating what you've seen.

And so with other things to think of
My poem gets pushed aside.
There's a bus to catch,
Catch it I must or woe betide.

At the next stop
I catch another bus
Earlier than the intended one.
I didn't make a fuss.

Next the tube with its mysteries
District or circle
East or West
Whatever would be best.

Fortunately there are always
Old hands at this game
To reassure and advise
This country bumpkin
Who came
Up to London's great city
To write a ditty
Of hurry and haste.

I catch the final bus
Sink gladly in my seat.
Now it's plain sailing
Till my friend I meet.

A friend with a car to take me now
Into the countryside's depths
The best home, I trow.

We travelled to Morwellham, in deepest Devon
To where a thriving port once stood
On the Tamar river
Where now there is a hillside wood.

How changes the fate of man,
Supply and demand is king
A deep copper mine was once worked here,
Now tourism is the thing.

As the mine grew harder to work
And new were discovered afar,
So the men and their families dispersed
To sleep under new, twinkling stars.

So change comes to us all,
We cannot resist .
We have to go down new paths
No matter how they twist.

How nice to settle in at home again,
To watch the trees grow in the rain.

To settle into bed at night
And stay there after dawn's first light.

To wander gently through the day
Without a timetable to control my way.

To amble on from meal to meal.
To let time's balm my mind to heal.

'Tis good to go about and play
But better far at home to stay.

This morning I have had a treat,
We three friends together did meet.

Two violins ,a viola and a cello.
Oh the sound was really mellow.

It is great fun, I must say,
To hear the parts interplay.

For more than two hours
We used our powers,
To mix and blend
And harmony send
Into the listening air.

Then fortified with tea and cake
We homeward then our way did take,
Filled with satisfaction.

The bungalow changes hands today.
'Tis the place where my children once did play,
Happily on a Saturday morn
From the time that they were born.

Wistfully we move on in life
Looking back o'er fun or strife
Lingering with the memories
Fading from our view.

Time goes by, the seasons change,
Familiar turns to strange.
We blossom and flourish
Then comes the end time
When we must make way
To another's rhyme.

Warm and muggy
Is this English season
Mist rolls in
For its own reason.

A quiet day to stop and think.
To eat some fruit and sip a drink.

To slumber long in morning hours
To linger by some dreamland towers.

To read a book and enter in
Years long past and full of sin.

To amble through the day
And sing a cheerful lay.

Squidooing is like juggling,
Trying to keep each lens in the air.
But then you get to the point
When you find you do not care.

You've tried so hard
To make your lenses shine.
Looked at SEO and stuff
To make them really fine.

Then Google turns against you
And you have to start again.
Really I am finding it
All too much of a pain.

So here's to real life
Lived in the round
Here I will not be
So frequently found.

Of course I shall write my poems,
Present them every day
But I will not spend more time than I must
Wheeee I'm off to play.

I've found the perfect way
To do my washing up.
It makes me stay there at the sink
Until all the work is done.

I have my CD player there,
Beside me on the work top.
I listen to Arvo Part
The music makes me stay.

I scrub and rinse my dishes
Until they shine,
Captivated by the magical sounds
That in my ears ring.

I hope to have a kitchen
Sparkling and clean
While I meditate with music pure
To keep my heart in tune.

When the law is on your side
You may still have to fight for justice.
Best if you can fight for someone else's justice.
The law is there because some people will never treat you right.
So fight for justice fight.
Use the law all you can, and get others to help you.
Their expertise is vital in this fight.
Marshall all your forces to attack the forces of injustice.
In the end they will fail and grovel at your feet.

The rain it raineth every day
It pelteth from on high
And if I forget and look up
I get it in my eye.

The wicked plot their wicked schemes
Against the old and frail.
Their schemes will turn upon them
Their foot will slip and fail.

God protects the humble
And keeps them from all harm
The evil ones will perish
And know their own alarm.

Safe in my Father's arms I lie
My God is my defence.
So I too will defend
The widow and the fatherless.

His love is my strength.
He carries me through ill.
I will fight for what is right
And fear no evil.

Back off ! You cowards,
Mistreating the elderly.
They have a mighty champion
To defend them.

You work for filthy lucre,
But justice will prevail.
One poor woman, with friends around
Will crush you where you stand.
As Joan of Arc she will prevail
And chase you from the land.

You comporate orcs
Will be thrown back
Before the shining ones
Your plots upon you will recoil
Broken will be your guns.

When the chips are down
And all looks bad
My God is still beside me.

When the clouds are dark
And the shadows come,
My God is still beside me.

When the sun does shine
And I feel fine
My God is still beside me.

The changing mood matters not
For He is still beside me.

The shadow of death hangs over me,
My God is still beside me.

'Tis a shadow only
But when death comes
My God is still beside me.

He has been this way
And conquered,
My God is still beside me.

Through every danger
Fear and doubt,
My God is still beside me.

He is nearer than breathing
Closer than our blood.
The divine lover
Of my soul.

He is faithful and true
Dependable
The divine lover of my soul.

He will never fail me
As an earthly friend might do
The divine lover of my soul.

In love he sweeps me into
His everlasting arms,
The divine lover of my soul.

What a sight !!
For teenage eyes,
Three ladies of a "certain" age,
Comparing mobile phones.
Wrestling with the problem
Of whether they were off or on.
One with a basic model,
One with a touch pad,
The other somewhere in between.
They swapped numbers but did not manage
To get a message across
The courtyard table,
Where they sipped a cappuchino each
And ate a toasted tea cake.
Phones soon forgotten it was off by the sea for a walk.
A lazy bank holiday in England.

The last day of August
Opens bright and fair.
There is mist along the river
And crows call in the air.

Our summer days are waning
But Autumn's often fair.
We will enjoy the sun
Until the trees are bare.

'Tis a time for looking back
O'er the days that have gone before
And step into another month
Leading on through Autumn's door.