Saturday, 30 June 2007
Friday, 29 June 2007
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
A woman's life is like "a great house full of rooms," most of which remain unseen: "and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep which never comes"
The Fullness of Life
Thursday, 21 June 2007
Saturday, 9 June 2007
The little church of St James the Less, Litchfield, on a summer's morning. My parents, Patrick and Annette, are buried here and I was christened here.
Fortunately, the vicar, Hamilton Lloyd, is very much of the old school and uses the Book of Common Prayer and King James's Bible in his erudite and amusing services.
This poem deals gently with the pain caused to the older generation by the adoption of modern forms of service
They have brought you up to date, Lord, down at St Cecilia's
They have pensioned off the organ and they are praising with guitars
They have done it for the young ones, we want to draw them in
But I do wish they could worship without making such a din
For I am growing rather deaf, Lord, and when there's all that noise
It gets so very hard, Lord, to hear your loving voice
They have written brand new hymns, Lord, with tunes I do not know
So I hardly ever sing now, though I did love singing so
They are very go-ahead, Lord - they are doing Series 3
But the words are not so beautiful as the others used to be
They have modernised the Bible, the Lord's Prayer and the Creed
When the old ones were so perfect that they filled my every need
My mind's not quite so agile as it was some years ago
And I miss the age-old beauty of the words I used to know
It's very clear to me, Lord - I've overstayed my time
I don't take to change so kindly I did when in my prime
But it can't be very long before I'm called above
And I know I'll find you there Lord and glory in your love
Till then I'll stick it out here, though it's not the same for me
But while others call you 'You' Lord, do you mind if I say 'Thee'