The Unbelievers

It is Hard for us to Understand

It is hard for us to understand

Why men were made this way….

That some great god had really planned

A home for such as they.

For nature does not teach us,

The Bible cannot reach us,

Nor holy men convince us

That God will bring a cure.

It is hard for us to understand

That death is not the end….

That to some vast and ghostly land,

Our spirits will ascend.

We cannot quite believe it

And even if we wished it,

We still could not receive it

Until we were quite sure.

So we must try to live without

Knowledge of Truth and Right

‘Til death relieves us of our doubt

And steeps our souls in night.

Then if He’s there we’ll see Him

(Though we may have to flee Him)

Because we could not see Him

On earth and were not sure.


The Neo-Liberal Con

Insidious evil stalks the Market Place

Spreading so fast.

Its  deceptive embrace –

Seductive and vast.

From ‘Ivory Towers’ to ‘City Banks’

And ‘Corridors of Power’

To our Media’s corrupted face.

Alas for humanity, divided society,

Undermined solidarity –

Lost without trace.

Cry out for the thousands, collateral broken,

Give voice to the millions who never are heard.

There’s not much more time for truth to be spoken –

Let’s make commitment to spreading this word.

15th August 2015



My Dearest Friend

Sixteen she was – funny and smart,

‘I want to be good’ she cried.

Her wistful sadness stole my heart –

But fun and laughter came beside.

Then when we went our different ways

We never quite forgot –

The highs and lows of all our days

We shared, though not a lot.

We nearly lost what we had back then

Which would have been so sad.

But when at last we met again –

O what times of joy we’ve had.

As years slip back

It seems no time

Divides us from our age-old craic.

I know this love will never end

For Jenny is my dearest friend.

Christmas 2014

Genvieve’s Questions

So very many questions

From the years of pain and grief.

But the ‘answers’ do not satisfy

And do not bring relief. Came, hoping for some insight

Where there weren’t none to be found.

Puzzled by a less-than-certain faith-style –

Yet where hope and love abound.

We, who do not have your answers

And cannot explain your loss,

Still are focused upon Jesus

And the mystery of his cross.

For his magnetism draws us

Down the labyrinthine years,

His Spirit captivates our hearts

And his love dissolves our fears.

We still hear his invitation

To his Kingdom of the free.

We can let go the complications

Hearing simply ‘Follow me’.

[ Prompted by a dialogue in cyber-space 2002]

The Skylarks of Ballycastle

O those Ballycastle skylarks of 1949,

The companions of my solitary play.

All that passion seemed so far away –

I could not ever make it mine.

Now once again I hear that song as it echoes in my brain –

Its instrumental purity –

That self-same, sad refrain

Distils essential ‘sehn sucht’ longings,

Inexpressible, sweet pain.

Are the ‘Links’ there still as springy

Neath newly-sandaled feet ?

Do the wild flowers bloom as freely ?

Does that first tangy, salt breeze still entreat ?

O tell me my skylarks’ progeny

Still sing there just as sweet.

And can we learn the meaning

Of those melodies without words ?

P’raps only in transcendence

Of a separate, self-loved heart

Is our spirit freed to worship with the larks –

Forever pouring forth their joyful, sacramental art.


Do you see what I see ?

Do you hear what I hear ?

As we listen to the music

We do not hear the same.

And we see what we have learned to see,

Even the guilty can escape all blame

If called innocent and sanitised.

Often enough, by the Media, hypnotised.

Living together, separately

We partake of different worlds

And experience culture shock

When they clash.

Failed Communications

I used to know before you told me

What you’d say.

Then I felt so much like you did


But the years have brought their changes

Made us little more than strangers

And I don’t know any longer

Who you are.

Somehow we lost connection ….

You followed a different star.

In Dylan’s heartfelt lyric

Was our jointly offered prayer –

‘May you stay forever young’.

Now you speak a different tongue.

Yes, there are songs we left unsung

But what we had was real and rare ….

And from our hearts come still that prayer …..

‘O may you stay……….forever young’.

Tenuous Connections

Like synapses we make connections

Each one trembling with potential.

Pregnant symbols of hope –

Such redundancy.

Vibrant connections

Impact lives –

Make history , change things.

Tenuous connections tempt with possibility.

Frustrate with unlived life.

Untravelled paths, abandoned choices,

Forever teasing with impossibly

Unrealisable dreams –

Once attainable and sweet.