Though we are not currently doing a verse and prayer for the day I would like to share with you some prayers or thoughts on prayer each day from Joy Huggett’s book ‘learning the language of prayer’. So today’s prayer:

Lord God, create in me such a homesickness for you that I am compelled to find a place where I can contemplate you and meet with you. Amen

Advent 24 from Dennis

My last offering was a comic poem by a former poet laureate – Talking Turkeys by Benjamin Zephaniah.

This one is more serious and is by someone who could never hope to reach such heights.

I have called it “2020”. I hope you enjoy it.




What a year!

It will go down in history

Suffering world-wide


It spreads like wildfire;

Nothing can stop it.

God – will you help us?



Of course!

Understand that I love you all.


As scientists work to provide a vaccine

Lockdowns are put in place

Looking to contain this menace.


Anxiety increases as time goes by.


Hopefully you are all well.

And will continue to be so.

People rally together

Protecting and providing for those in need.

Yes – out of adversity comes opportunity to do good.


Christmas is near;

Hope increases as the first vaccine is here;

Realistically though the message is clear –

It will take time – maybe till Easter and beyond?

Slowly but surely normality will return

Technology has helped; Skype, Whatsapp and Zoom.

Many have found these a real boon

As a means of meeting with, seeing and talking to each other.

So we go on. Wishing you all a Happy New Year.

Advent 23

Into the Darkest Hour

– Madeleine L’Engle

It was a time like this,
war & tumult of war,
a horror in the air.
Hungry yawned the abyss –
and yet there came the star
and the child most wonderfully there.

It was a time like this
of fear & lust for power,
license & greed and blight –
and yet the Prince of bliss came into the darkest hour
in quiet & silent light.

And in a time like this
how celebrate his birth
when all things fall apart?
Ah! Wonderful it is:
with no room on the earth,
the stable is our heart.

Another carol chosen by Claire

This carol reminds me of all the people who had messages from angels at Christmas: Mary, Joseph and the shepherds.

Hark the herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
Christ is born in Bethlehem
Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King!

Christ by highest heav’n adored
Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come
Offspring of a Virgin’s womb
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see
Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Jesus, our Emmanuel
Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King!

Hail the heav’n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris’n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King!

A poem from Dennis

This time next week, unless you are vegan or vegetarian, I guess you will all be preparing to eat your turkey dinner.

If you like a fresh turkey rather than a frozen one then you may still be yet to buy your turkey, in which case please don’t let this put you off. Sometimes though, it is nice to see the view from the other side. Enjoy!

Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos’ turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don’t eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I’m on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it
An humans are out of dere mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
Dey all hav a right to a life,
Not to be caged up an genetically made up
By any farmer an his wife.

Turkeys just wanna play reggae
Turkeys just wanna hip-hop
Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying,
“I cannot wait for de chop”,
Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV,
Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain
In many ways like yu an me.

I once knew a turkey called…….. Turkey
He said “Benji explain to me please,
Who put de turkey in christmas
An what happens to christmas trees?”,
I said “I am not too sure turkey
But it’s nothing to do wid Christ Mass
Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be
An business men mek loadsa cash’.

Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
Invite dem indoors fe sum greens
Let dem eat cake an let dem partake
In a plate of organic grown beans,
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
An spare dem de cut of de knife,
Join Turkeys United an dey’ll be delighted
An yu will mek new friends ‘FOR LIFE’.


Advent 17 from Richard

The Invitation: a Christmas poem by Mark Greene
To Mary, the invitation came, skyborne on angel’s wings,
Heaven sent and pregnant with possibilities.
For, God knows, she had reasons to say ‘no’,
Her future, til then, so serenely assured:
A home, her good name, a husband to wed.
Everything indeed for which she thought she’d been bred.

Are such so easily cast aside?
Would love, security, reputation
Be so swiftly pried
From our determined grasp?
How other people’s risks seem simpler to take,
Our own stubborn knots so much harder to break.

To us, the royal invitation also comes,
Though usually in less spectacular script,
Sans seraph, but daily clear, which way will we go?
Of course, we are free to decline,
But ‘no’, promising more for now, always leads to less,
Better, braver, wiser, surely simply to say…




Here is my choice for our Advent-themed anthology of poems and carols.  It was written by Mark Greene, who is probably my favourite Christian poet.  For the past 21 years, he has been Executive Director of LICC, the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity.  In this poem, Mark describes what may have been going on in Mary’s mind as she thought about her encounter with the angel, and the invitation she received.  Mark ends by inviting us all to consider how we respond to God’s invitations to us today.

Advent 15.

This favourite poem of mine imagines the wise men “following the star” – a long and hard journey but undertaken in hope despite the doubts and questions, a journey of faith – and hope fulfilled. I find it inspiring. Rachel:

Journey of the Magi
T. S. Eliot

“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.”
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

A carol chosen by June

From Melissa:June chose this carol and I have added various  sung versions, enjoy.

June reminds us that Christina Rosetti’s poem has become a well-known and much-loved carol. It also invites the response of our heart to the Saviour born in Bethlehem.





In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, 
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; 
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, 
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain; 
heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign. 
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed 
the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there, 
cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; 
but his mother only, in her maiden bliss, 
worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am? 
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; 
if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part; 
yet what I can I give him: give my heart.

Christina Rosetti

ADVENT Day 10 (from Mark)

Another carol. The 4th verse of my favourite carol says:
“For lo! The days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever circling years, Comes round the age of gold;
When peace shall over all the earth, Its ancient splendour fling,
And all the world send back the song, which now the angels sing.”

Whilst this carol, like many, has a lot of semi romantic language, which can distract us from the message, this 4th verse has things to say about the future.
One, peace will come (please say amen to that).
Two, all will worship. Both of these held together by the promise of Christ’s return.
Third, and in light of that last point especially, there is an urgency.
Is there an urgency in our lives, our witness and our preaching? Do we understand that Christ will come again?

A carol chosen by Claire

I like ‘O little town of Bethehem’ because it reminds me of Jesus being born in Bethlehem and the holiness of the first Christmas.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above
While mortals sleep the angels keep their watch of wondering love
Oh morning stars together, proclaim thy holy birth.
And praises sing to God the king, and peace to men on earth.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.