Sun | Dec 11, 2016

poems

Published:Sunday | December 14, 2014 | 12:00 AM

Advent season now begins

Light a purple candle

We await the birth of Christ

Child swaddled in a cradle

This the baby soon to be

Yeshua, Saviour holy

What has he to do today

With designer labels?

God before the Christian folk

usurped your vast demesne

Dubbed the horned one a beast

cast him the very Devil

Trickster-hero, Archmage now

Shaman, fool, shapeshifter

Could it be the ancient one

comes to reclaim dominion?

Never more should we remove

despairing tears from laughter

Never more the light alone

We'll embrace things darker

Pitch the lines of battle now

'twixt Jesus and the Trickster

God the only Holy one

'gainst the ancient crazy

Sew the seeds of discord sure

laugh to see them scramble

To bring them face to face with pure

Chaos, you dissemble

Twist the message Jesus brought

Give until it hurts

Loot from shoppers rage, incensed

No gold, but bitter myrrh

Who the God that reigns supreme

in our hearts today?

Not the baby boy serene

Loki, or Ananse?

Mayhap 'tis time the Christ child bright

shift a bit, move over

and beware the coming night

Trickster God, takeover

- Dawn Forrester Price

Joy to the World

The children sang

filling the Sts Peter & Paul Chapel

with angelic melody

it was a dramatic shift heavenwards from the preparatory school

Whipping up praise in my heart

Indeed "sometimes a light surprises a

Christian while He sings, it is the Lord

who rises with healing in His wings"

This is the best Christmas ever

a real SENSE of the divine

when cents and dollars are failing, falling in this season

you rejoice in the real joy of life

"Once in Royal David's City"

and sorrow is measure and tempered by the power of His birth

Across Lluidas Vale

Flat Bridge

Salt Marsh, Montego Bay

at supper sharing memories and meanings of Christmas

My Bethel, I raise

Supper with the Women Federation at Bethel Baptist HWT

Roast breadfruit

Christmas cake and sorrell

This is my bread and wine

My memories of Christmas when my mother was alive

... it does not "get better with time", it only gets different

a line of one her favourite hymns jolts!

"when seasons are declining He sends the soul again a season

of clear shinning to cheer it after rain"

And I think I can't be measured

by time or place

be boxed or put in a box

I devour labels, I am Me

"Crazy", "Wound up" (Display hand signal), "Sick in de head",

demented, Loco! (en EspaÒol) for the Risen Lord

Blessed Mother Mary, Father Saint Joseph

"Christian Children ALL MUST BE MILD OBEDIENT GOOD AS HE!"

- Helen-Ann Elizabeth Wilkinson