It’s Christmas

It's Christmas time and the traffic is crazy,
With people preparing to eat and be lazy,
Long Summer days are stretching ahead,
Wishes are offered and greetings are said.

And the scene with the manger is here,
This Nativity time of the year,
Telling the story so old,
Of frankincense, myrrh and of gold.
Of the shepherds gazing in awe,
At the babe in the stable so poor.

It's Christmas time and the fridge is replete
With turkey and pudding, and good things to eat.
The pantry is stacked with biscuits and cake,
And all of the Christmassy food that we bake.

And the scene of the stable is here,
This Nativity time of the year,
Drawing our thoughts to the One,
For whom Christmas time was begun,
God-become-man as a babe,
Born his creation to save.

It's Christmas time and the church bells ring,
Prayers are spoken and people sing,
Worshipping God who came to Earth,
Celebrating the Saviour's birth.

And the scene of the Bethlehem night, 
With the star up above giving light,
Speaks of the world-changing time,
When mundane was replaced by sublime,
When salvation arrived for us all,
In a baby new-born and so small.
© Copyright Ellen Carr 2018

Procrastination

She picked up her pen,
Picked up her pen,
Twirled it around,
Tapped,
Tapped a little rhythm,
Looked at the clock,
And thought of coffee.

She sat at her desk,
Sat at her desk,
Sipped her coffee,
Hummed,
Hummed a catchy tune,
Smiled a bit,
And thought of yesterday.

She pulled out her phone,
Opened her phone,
Clicked and scrolled,
Checked,
Checked her messages,
Muttered quietly,
Fired off a quick reply.

She noticed a cobweb,
Noticed its dangling grey,
Like clinging tendrils,
Frowned,
Frowned at its intrusion,
Collected a broom,
And swept it from the wall.

She glanced at the clock,
The slow ticking clock,
Hands moving on and on,
Sighed,
Sighed at the passing of time,
Picked up her pen,
And wrote the date.

She considered the date,
Considered tomorrow’s date,
Half remembered,
Wondered,
Looked for her diary,
Thumbed through its pages,
Confirmed her plans.

The pen in her hand,
Pen poised and ready,
Extension of thoughts,
To paper.
Wrote a sentence,
Paused just a while,
And wrote another.

She heard the phone ring,
Heard it ringing on and on,
Refused to move,
Ignored it,
Kept on writing,
Finished a paragraph,
And kept writing on.

© Copyright Ellen Carr 2016

 

 

 

 

Those Kids! (A Palm Sunday reflection)

 

What a procession,
on the road into town!
What a commotion
and laying cloaks down.

Yelling ‘Hosanna’,
‘Blessed is the King’.
Shouting ‘Messiah’,
honouring Him.

Excited disciples
making a scene,
waving their branches,
a carpet of green.

The colt of the donkey
bearing the Lord,
the crowd shouting praises,
it seemed that they roared.

The children were listening.
They joined in the praise,
swept up in the moment
young voices they raise.

Into the temple
the Lord went that day
sweeping traders and money
changers away.

Healing the blind ones,
curing the lame,
watched by the children
praising His name.

‘Hosanna,’ they shouted
‘Son of David,’ they cried,
and the scribes were indignant
the priests said they lied.

The children annoyed them,
their simple refrain
stole all their thunder,
upstaged them again.

‘Do you hear what they’re saying,
these children?’ they said.
Indignant and angry,
they wanted Him dead.

But the children sang praises;
they shouted His name.
They knew He was worthy;
they told forth his fame.

While the priests and the scribes
plotted terrible things,
the children rejoiced for
this day was their King’s!

Re-blogged from 2014

© Copyright Ellen Carr 2014

The Purple Carpet of Advent

Purple stretches over the pathway,
Covers the green of lawn,
A kingly carpet of fallen flowers,
Heralding His coming.

Towering jacarandas light up December,
Purple the landscape,
Majestic in their robes,
Signalling Christmas.

Australian Advent days
Of balmy sunset air
Stretch the evenings out
Towards Nativity.

Carollers tread their way
Across the purple,
Underneath the silent trees,
Singing Christmas in.

© Copyright Ellen Carr 2017

 

Daylight Saving

What did you do in your house last night?
Did you sort out the clocks and get them all right?
Did you fix up the microwave, stove and TV,
turn their clocks on so their times all agree?
Did you work out the way to change each device,
which buttons to press or to tap once or twice?
Did you alter the wall clock and bedside alarm,
the clock in your car and the watch on your arm? 

Then, after you'd done all that changing of clocks,
did you check out the fire alarms and all the locks?
Did you get yourself moving, and early to bed
so you'd wake bright and chirpy, not grumpy instead?
Did you leap out of bed with a sense of delight
that somehow the morning still seemed like the night?
Did you think of the power you'll be saving each day,
now Daylight Saving has come into play? 

Or did you get sleepily out of your bed,
wondering why you were feeling half dead,
remember the reason and, with a sigh,
wish you could wave Daylight Saving goodbye! 

 

© Copyright Ellen Carr 28-9-17 (The day before Daylight Saving started here.)

 

At Pentecost

Expectation hovered over them
as they, the believers there,
with their stories to tell,
and their memories to share….

Broke the bread and drank the wine
for a death that didn’t last,
sang the Psalms, spoke his words
from the three years past.

Squashed together in the upper room,
the rough with the refined,
their commonality their faith,
their joy the strongest bind.

A whistling cyclone filled the house
and as light as the touch of grace,
tongues of fire fell on their heads
and languages filled the place.

They spoke in tongues unknown,
of God and his wondrous ways;
the Spirit upon them, they spoke his words,
as prophesied for the last days.

The Church was born in that upper room
that Pentecost Sunday, that day,
Believing, accepting the message they heard
three thousand followed The Way.

Expectation turned to worship,
to boldness and to power,
that flowed out to the nations
from that place, from that hour.

© Copyright Ellen Carr 2017

From you, Mum

Flower vector created by Freepik

How much have I learnt –
how many ingrained truths
well-worn habits
turns of phrase
tricks of trade
lines of humour –
and wisdom
from you, Mum?

How much have I learnt –
how many ways to live
get involved
have a go
reach out
invite in –
and share
from you, Mum?

How much have I learnt –
how many truths of faith
enduring patterns
every-day prayers
reading of the Word
worshipping –
and trust
from you, Mum?

You set my path from childhood
steered me on my way.
And for this I’m thankful
on this new Mother’s Day.

© Copyright Ellen Carr 2017

There is Resurrection (Easter: Part 3)

There is Despair (Easter: Part 2)

There was Darkness (Easter: Part 1)