"The song on my lips" by Nathan

you are the song on my lips,
the beat of my heart,
the birds that sing in the trees,
the sun on my skin,

the place where i finish
yet also begin
you are an angel
and i hear you sing

let me take you on a journey,
through the moon lit forests.
lets run together, like windswept leaves
through deserted city streets,

unbeknownst to sleeping minds of men,
let us bathe in the darkness of the night

Strong conversations upward

Strong conversations upward

like blood sugar

going berserk.

Bandana’d airmen stood on the airfield

drinking sake

I feel susceptible

in my blue coat

losing face

and then later, a place

when my friend

recovered from meningitis

in the same house

Not wishing to risk a tenth

on the dropped kerb, the click-finger synchronicity

with a journalist

amazingly led to nothin

(c) Richard Fletcher

What Does it Profit a Man

To gain the Whole World
But lose his soil?


. . . Rev Si

Picture 1

I saw a picture of a body that had thornes in it.
I saw Jesus taking out the thornes and running his hands over
the wounds.
They were closing up and healing.
This is a picture of what God wants to do with us this week.

Picture 3 - The Candle and the wick
I saw a picture of a candle with a smoldered wick.
Then I saw a lit taper.
It lights the candle and it bursts into flame.

I see the candle, with the words "Holy Spirit" written on it.
On the candle is written the words "Us, me, people".
This is a picture of what god wants to do for us.
Light the flame of the Holy spirit in us.

Picture 4 - The trees and flowers
I see a picture of a dark wood.
The wood seems totally dead, just like winter.
In the distance I see Jesus walking through the wood.
As Jesus walks through the wood,
trees burst into life, their is colour everywhere.
There are trees that have every kind of coloured leaves and needles.
This is a picture of what Jesus wants to do in our lives.
Jesus wants to bring colour into our lives.

The workers hate the upperclass

The workers hate the upperclass
The Upperclass the workers
But the ones who don't get off their arse
are hated most: the shirkers

nighttime river

The night-time river delivers with a thud
Your boat into the bank of roots and mud
But you should be very grateful
Rejoice and don't be hateful
That it is only water flowing
and not blood

I See The Stars

I see the stars
and my aching heart yearns
for its place amongst them.
The clouds only offer me
respite,
as they drift and veil
that which pains me so.
The rain drenches me
until finally sense prevails;
I seek shelter by the hearth
but no blanket can
cover my grief.
A fitful sleep
and with the sun rising,
another star
closer than the others
offers me temporary solace
as a mother offers
a babe her breast


Kemlyn