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A Poem to help us remember what Remembrance Sunday is all about:

When they laid the Unknown Warrior
in the darkness of the Grave
with the earth of all those battlefields
enfolding his mortal remains
little did they know;
those politicians and Service Chiefs,
of the power of his presence

In the soil from whence he came
was a son, a brother, a husband and Dad.
He is here, not there, with Kings and Poets
Is ours and we are his
and he rests unseen, at peace.

In Flanders, the Somme and Dardanelles,
boys served, died, survived – only just;
Their families mourned for the dead
and some mourned more
for the remnant which breathed.

Remembrance Sunday.




Something To Think About!

Imagine that you had won the following prize in a contest:  Each morning your bank would deposit £86,400.00 in your private account for your use.

However, this prize has rules; - just as any game has certain rules. 
The first set of rules: Everything that you didn't spend during each day would be taken away from you.  You may not simply transfer money into some other account.   You may only spend it.   Each morning upon awakening, the bank opens your account with another £86,400.00 for that day.

The second set of rules: The bank can end the game without warning; at any time it can say, “It’s over, the game is over!”  It can close the account and you will not 
receive a new one.  What would you personally do?   You would buy anything and everything you wanted.  Not only for yourself, but for all the people that you love,   You would even spend it on people you don't know, because you couldn't possibly spend it all on yourself.  You would try to spend every penny, and use it all.

Each of us is in possession of such a magical bank, but we just can't seem to see it.

Each morning we awaken to receive 86,400 seconds as a gift of life, and when we go to sleep at night, any remaining time is NOT credited to us.   What we haven't lived up that day is forever lost.  Yesterday is forever gone.  Each morning the account is refilled, but the bank can dissolve your account at any time . . . . . .

So, what will YOU do with your 86,400 seconds today?  Those seconds are worth so much more than the same amount in pounds.  Think about that, and always think of this:  Enjoy every second of your life, because time races by so much 
quicker than you think.  Take care of yourself.  Be Happy, Love 
Deeply and Enjoy Life. Here's wishing everyone a wonderfully beautiful day. 




This is not a poem but just fun: Read this as quickly as possible

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdgnieg The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer inwaht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.
Yes, and I awlyas thought slpeling was ipmorantt!
Don't let youngsters see this item or they will never practice their slelpnig.




PRAISE Mary Anderson

Praise the Lord for all the seasons,
Praise Him for the gentle spring,
Praise the Lord for glorious summer,
Birds and beasts and everything,
Praise the Lord Who sends the harvest,
Praise Him for the winter snows;
Praise the Lord, all ye who love Him,
Praise Him, for all things He knows.

The Difference - Author unknown.

I got up early one morning and rushed right into the day;
I had so much to accomplish and I didn't have time to pray.
Problems just tumbled about me and heavier came each task.
"Why doesn't God help me?" I wondered. He answered, "You didn't ask".
I wanted to see joy and beauty but the day toiled on, gray and bleak,
I wondered why God didn't show me. He said, "But you didn't seek".
I tried to come into God's presence; I used all my keys at the lock.
God gently and lovingly chided, "My child, you didn't knock".
I woke up early this morning and paused before entering the day.
I had so much to accomplish and I had to take time to pray.


It isn't raining rain to me by Robert Loveman

It isn't raining rain to me, it's raining daffodils;
In every dimpled drop I see wild flowers on the hills.
The clouds of grey engulf the day and overwhelm the town -
It isn't raining rain to me, it's raining roses down.

It isn't raining rain to me, but fields of clover bloom
Where any buccaneering bee may find a bed and room,
A health unto the happy, a fig for him who frets -
It isn't raining rain to me, it's raining violets.


God give me the ability to see clearly the border-lines in life
and the wisdom not to cross them.
Help me never to stray over the narrow lines between:

Helpfulness and Interference
Self-confidence and Arrogance
Love and Possessiveness
Enthusiasm and Fanaticism
Frankness and Tactlessness
Admiration and Idolatry
Enjoyment and Excess
Idealism and Naivety
Self-reliance and Obstinacy
Compassion and Sentimentality
Righteous Indignation and Vengefulness
Self-awareness and Self-centredness

This Poem was written by Mr Olorenshaw who was pleased to see his poem on our site. We thank Mr Olorenshaw for his permission to use his words.



A Walk in Spring by K.C. Lart

What could be nicer than the spring, when little birds begin to sing?
When for my daily walk I go through fields that once were white with snow?
When in the green and open spaces lie baby lambs with sweet black faces?
What could be finer than to shout that all the buds are bursting out -
And oh, at last beneath the hill, to pick a yellow daffodil?