From a tiny seed an idea came
He’d travel around the globe
To see this thing for himself
To ask, to seek, to probe
He had a burning need to feel
That felt by those with faith.
For he’d not felt a thought in faith
From that day until this
The loss he felt had taken it
And left a fatalist.
The journey back he couldn’t make
His faith he’d not restore
For it was gone, it was long gone
It was gone for evermore.
©JRW2013
The words don’t always flow as freely as I would like, but there are times, not often enough I’m afraid, when it’s as if a veritable torrent wants to flow. It is on these occasions that I feel I must write it down. I put my hands on the keyboard and they seem to take on a life all of their own. I love that feeling…it’s precious.
My journey began many, many days ago
I’ve travelled through so many lives
Some are so sad that they break my heart
Some are full of joy and I’m loathe to part
But move I must as I journey on
Throughout the seasons from one to one
Till one day I arrive at my journey’s end
Where I hand the day over to my closest friend
I am a full year…now completed.
©JRW2013
The cheer came, the joy came, the presents came too
Those who had, had, those who hadn’t went without.
Some had morsels, other had scraps, some had nothing at all
Yet others had far more than they either needed or deserved.
This was yet another Christmas where poverty was highlighted
And yet another where nothing was being done about it.
Will next year be full of compromised politicians giving themselves too much pay,
whilst at the same time claiming expenses far in excess of that which some people have to live on?
Will we hear of yet even more corruption on the international political stage?
Why is the NHS failing us when the nation’s health should be paramount to all?
Why are our children not being educated properly?
Why are so many old people abandoned to fates they don’t deserve in an uncaring society?
I’m not without hope, there’s always a good chance
That politicians may find a solution to these worries
But they need to change, and there’s the rub
They don’t like change, they remain aloof
They never act before they have proof
And that will only come from a collective effort.
Please…
©JRW2013
Santa comes to bring great joy
For every little child a toy
He brings toy drums and skipping ropes
Pretty dolls, kaleidoscopes.
We leave him sherry and a mince pie
For him to eat as he goes by
And in the night as this takes place
At lots of windows, a little face
Too full of joy to sleep too well
They await the sound of the Jingling Bell.
©JRW2013
Christmas comes but once a year, we rush, we spend, we buy
Ignoring the hands reaching up from the pavements
Of the homeless, forgotten ones who cry.
We try not to see them, embarrassed by their plight
It’s not familiar to us, and feels an unpleasant sight.
But we’re alright, we’ll have a bed tonight, while they
May sleep beneath the very cardboard that held the gifts we carry home.
Spare a thought, spare a nice thought, it could be you, or me
You never hear the tide change, it just sweeps it all away
And being not as young any more, it’s hard to find your way
You find yourself on Mercy Street, where even a pair of boots
Become a treasured possession, and you’ll fight to keep them.
But two things above all others are the most prized possessions of all
Pride and Dignity, taken for granted in the world of have
But upon entering Mercy Street, they fly away never to be regained
And they leave the heart forever pained.
©JRW2013
She sits, I watch
Pain etches her face
I helped, I always do
It did no good, the pain remains
Helpless, we’re both so bloody helpless
©JRW2013
The Winter days dragged long and weary
Penetrating cold congealed his once pure heart
The hurt he felt, humiliation now complete
His need for revenge, or pride at least, restored.
He sat and waited and counted off the days
Till then his moment kept at length
But time would come when he would strike
And hurt, and life would be undone.
No more he’d take from them the crumbs of fear
The lies of those who for so many so little cared
Would be swept aside as the truth so brightly revealed
No wrong he’d done, as die he now would, his conscience clear.
©JRW2013
Jovis on a Journey... 