Thursday, 26 December 2013
Mind of the Poet
I'm not doing it to order,
You see I can't I've just gone blank,
How much more do you want?
All i've got? is that enough?
Because all i've got is what you see, that s me.
Now how about a cup of tea?
by Margo Cooper
Sunday, 8 December 2013
Margo's Poem For Advent..
A
sudden
bong,
a bang in my ear.
It was my little friend,
who is always near.
Today is the day that she travels afar,
to have a special plaque put in her ear,
of course it is Christmas cheer
and it is a Westminster chime that will ring out clear.
For clock in waiting I have been signed.
This is a great privilege to be so near
and sing ding doings in her ear.
Ring out and shout it is I!
Do not fear ,
just a little tune,
and trust a little
to give us
cheer.
by margo cooper
Monday, 4 November 2013
Immanuel!
Abraham the father of Isaac
Isaac the father of Jacob,
Jacob had Judah and brother's of course
Who traveled from Canaan to Egypt by horse.
Boaz the father of Obed,
who's mother was Ruth,
Obed the father of Jesse
and Jesse the father of David the King.
He is the one who leads the way,
We'll tell of the others as we play,
until we come to Jehosephat,
The one who won the day!
Now certain ones leap out at you more.
Like Jacob the father of Joseph of course
The husband of Mary, the mother of Christ,
Who he called Messiah.
14 generations from Abraham to David ,
14 generations to Babylonian rule,
14 generations after Babylon proceeded,
Until the birth of Jesus.
by Margo Cooper
Isaac the father of Jacob,
Jacob had Judah and brother's of course
Who traveled from Canaan to Egypt by horse.
Boaz the father of Obed,
who's mother was Ruth,
Obed the father of Jesse
and Jesse the father of David the King.
He is the one who leads the way,
We'll tell of the others as we play,
until we come to Jehosephat,
The one who won the day!
Now certain ones leap out at you more.
Like Jacob the father of Joseph of course
The husband of Mary, the mother of Christ,
Who he called Messiah.
14 generations from Abraham to David ,
14 generations to Babylonian rule,
14 generations after Babylon proceeded,
Until the birth of Jesus.
by Margo Cooper
Thursday, 10 October 2013
Letter to my friend.
Dear Dee,
At last I write to you!
A letter of joy and laughter.
Sorry you had to wait for so long
and still have hope to write more,
when the postman comes through the
door!
Now it is leaving soon.
Look see! And yet another letter
has come.
Here upon the mat.
Here I sit and dream that you too
will bring the cat,
who sits so patiently on the mat.
Well now that’s the word to begin.
Take you by surprise and give a
crafty grin.
We have so much news for you the
lucky one.
I too!
Just wait for me to do up my shoe,
And go to the loo,
And then I’ll tell you tales that
happened,
Of not long ago,
And tell the tale of broken bones,
that make you groan.
Surprise, surprise I’m now on two
feet,
And free to tell this story as it
began,
And gave me no joy, but pain and
grief,
Now I share my broken bones,
In the story that I have told.
I can at last walk on two feet,
Not as smart as I did dwell,
But I long to make me well,
So one day soon,
All will at last be complete,
With my hips and my feet.
Love from Margo xx
Monday, 30 September 2013
Friendships
Friendships -
Friendships are from heaven above,
They are full of love.
They take and give to those most dear,
And bring to life, a joyful cheer.
For it's now a time to celebrate,
Lift up your hands and celebrate,
To God who loves us and gives us joy,
And brings us doves from above.
Friendships are from heaven above,
They are full of love.
They take and give to those most dear,
And bring to life, a joyful cheer.
For it's now a time to celebrate,
Lift up your hands and celebrate,
To God who loves us and gives us joy,
And brings us doves from above.
Thursday, 26 September 2013
My Invisible Reality
My Invisible…….(Parkinsons causes hallucinations. Margo had two days of them before writing this)
Sand on the beach with pebbles,
Hey you lend a hand!
Plus some way you see,
I went and banged my knee,
They laughed at me! With my bruised knee!
Now we’ll see who’s up the tree!
The spider and the bee,
Its long legs came to me,
And swept me off the tree,
They were not friendly,
But I did not stay long to see,
I knew they were trouble on my corn.
Monday, 9 September 2013
Seeds of 'morrow.
New Life
and
Seeds of ‘morrow.
A tiny seed falls softly in the
early morning mist…………..
In God’s creation under the sky,
All are given a time to die.
Some will know the pain and sorrow,
For them there will be no tomorrow.
Some will discover the joy of
living,
And find new lasting love in
giving,
But to be lifted high, like the
seed,
First we must fade and die.
Unknown, unseen a colourful mass.
Opens ready to enfold this helpless
un-born.
This tiny seed that begins to soak
in the sun’s warmth and breathe…………New Life!
Now it can break free! No longer
entangled in deadly weed.
It’s roots now safe at last.
Firmly embedded in God’s rich soil.
In this child; “in need”. I longed
to know?
Or is it only a dream?
“Bone of my bone, flesh of my
flesh”,
This perfect creation, this
delicate new-born.
I now treasure deep within.
This precious gift of love freely
given,
A life to cherish, to have and to
hold,
Not given in terror, or fear, or
infection of old.
This is surely no dream, this child
I enfold.
It is then that we shall know the
truth,
That only God’s peace can release,
Taking away all suffering and pain,
Only His love can redeem and fill
us with joy,
Then we will breathe and be set
free!
No more fear or pain or sorrow,
Only love, joy and peace,
Will light the way……….and the ‘morrow.
My burdens to heavy to combat this
fight,
Please let me breathe and set me
free,
Free now and forever from dreaded
disease,
That love and joy,
Can set me free, release me and
give me,
Everlasting Peace!
By
Margo Cooper
The Hoist!
The Hoist
The " loist" is my friend, so I’m told.
So I’ll be big and bold,
And tell you a few tales, I tell of the old.
I’m not a tale tell as you will see,
And often I sit upon his knee,
But Charlie’s bad at times you see
And his knee is hard and not comfy,
But when Charlie’s good I call him Charles,
Not Prince Charles as he would like,
I tell him he is only a Prince at night,
And then keep out of my sight,
So little brother it’s plain to see,
You will never be the Monarch on my knee!
But when you play the hoist, you must be the best for me……I
think I see!
OW!
Ow!
Ow!
You’re treading on my toe,
Oh, Oh, Oh, No!
Where’s the rhyme? You let it go!
Now we’ll see all those busies in the bees,
Chase you up into those trees.
Get away from the garden and the fleas,
Bees don’t do all the work!
The others do! You quirk.
by Margo Cooper September 2013
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