Parental Prayer…

Do not resent me for the discipline and guidance

I handed out with ‘double servings’

Do not condemn me for the mistakes I made –

As I had no prior rehearsals.

Do not judge me harshly – for you may

One day, duplicate my shadow

As when I no longer live and am

But an image – dusty on a shelf

And the word ‘Mum’ is spoken of as ‘Nan’

Just remember –

I gave you life

I learned many things with you,

As I was still a child myself.

I learned to love and understand

As pain, anxiety, happiness and sorrow

Combined as my only tutor

And I found laughter with you and

For you, as you were but an

Extension of myself –

And but a link with all your tomorrows!”

My Children, did I ever stop and tell you

How much I love you?

Each time I yelled

`Wipe your shoes before you come in the door;

Did you finish your homework;

Have you tidied your room’;

Those were but plaintive notes,

Ineptly saying – I truly care!

When I yelled –

`Turn that music down;

Wash up those dirty dishes;

Pick up those scattered books;

Don’t forget your wallet’

I was screaming I truly care!

Trying to convey my message

Within those boundaries of discipline –

Amidst the noise of your laughter and games

My heart was truly ablaze.

Perhaps as you grow older

And these aged phrases

are repeated down the years

Your eyes may glisten with tears

As you hear –

The silent echo of my fears..

`I love You’ -

I’m still yelling – I truly care!

• Please Bruce if you are interested in copyright approval for this piece.

The Man on the Land
Graeme Cook

Funeral Celebrant
Ringwood Melbourne Victoria

Hear Graeme read his poem on his ACCN Homepages - CLICK on CD SAMPLE then
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My Christmas Memories

By Eunice Phipps

Christmas with the family holds such wonderful memories for me,

Of roast dinner and plum pudding and the presents round the tree.

The sounds of children’s laughter echoes through the years,

And I think of my parents so dear to me and shed another tear.

Our home was never rich in wealth but our love was deep and true,

It is these things I think of most, as I watch tradition start anew.

I would like to turn back the clock to our family Christmas Day,

To the precious gifts that meant so much, from our family far away.

I used to sit for hours on end making Christmas Decorations,

Today folks just visit any store and buy their festive creations.

Our Christmas Day was simple just me, Mum, Dad and my Brother,

We didn’t say it but you could feel the love we felt for one another.

I wonder just how many folks remember the good old days,

Singing songs around Nan’s piano, that we all so loved to play.

We used to make our own fun then, no computer games for us,

Our stockings weren’t filled up to the brim but we never made a fuss.

I remember slipping out of bed in the dark and trying hard to see…

The treasures left by Old Saint Nick, around the Christmas tree.

Christmas is for children that’s how the saying goes,

But to me it’s for the joy, and love, and presents tied with bows.

It is the joy I get from giving that means so much to me,

Not the gift or what is in it, but the happiness I see.

Children bring such joy to all from the moment they are born,

Like those moments around the Christmas tree, early Christmas morn.

I ask myself why it is today that the Spirit of Christmas has become so false,

Commercial gain and political correctness don’t add to joy, or anything else.

Today’s children don’t believe in Santa they way we used to do.

Their family teachings are to blame for this, and commercialism clouds their view.

To give a gift at Christmas never used to break the bank,

But today our kids want more and more without a word of thanks.

My message to you this Christmas is as old is the tradition itself,

It’s one of joy and peace on earth and a visit from that jolly elf.

Have a wonderful Christmas with all who mean so much to you,

Sit back, relax, enjoy, as you share a meal and maybe a drink or two.

I wish you well, in what you do Merry Christmas one and all,

Happy New Year 2010 may it be the most successful year of all.

© Eunice Phipps

Everyone Has Their Story

everyone has their story

whether there are eager ears to hear it

or hungry eyes to glimpse it

it is there

woven between their breaths and heartbeats

sometimes noisy and bold

other times spoken in silent holy tones

that only the inanimate world can listen for and feel

everyone and everything has its place

in the infinite whole

without the earth beneath our feet

the sky above and around our being

to sandwich us together yet apart

how would we start to know who we are

yet alone tell our tale?

what makes some think one story better than another?

an open heart and third eye welcomes all

gives thanks for all

treasures all

everyone has their story

if we could be but a fly on their wall

a spy in their soul

to know and understand what has come and gone

throughout their time

like a time lapsed film that captures things too slow

for our blunt Neanderthal senses

then speeds them up to show their glorious beauty

we know all other lives have been touched

and touched others in turn

we farewell all

give thanks for all

treasure all

give rest for all

in understanding, peace and love

© RF Carey