Last year we had Myrrh, this year Frankincense.
How sweet the smell rising to the heavens. A priest at work Offering thanks and sacrifice.
Round the altar a choir with ten thousand wings and countless mouths sings Hallelujah; Hallelujah to the Lamb.
But look down below, beneath the Holy night another evening passes where . . . → Read More: Frankincense
A fresh day But winter remains Still I mourn
Lay me down
Wrap me tightly and constrict my movement. Not so much that I cannot breath but as close as possible to that point of no return that at times it seems there is little difference.
Is this comfort?
Present me with Gold that I have no hands free to spend or Frankincense . . . → Read More: Myrrh
For Gayle and Reuben
Wife and son are away for the day And I am left alone to play. “Alone to play,” I hear you cry! “Alone to play,” you hear me sigh.
Peter Ould 14th November 2009
. . . → Read More: Domestic Singularity – A Love Poem
By Scott Cairns
Your petitions—though they continue to bear just the one signature—have been duly recorded. Your anxieties—despite their constant,
relatively narrow scope and inadvertent entertainment value—nonetheless serve to bring your person vividly to mind.
Your repentance—all but obscured beneath a burgeoning, yellow fog of frankly more conspicuous resentment—is sufficient.
Your intermittent concern for the . . . → Read More: Possible Answers to Prayer