|
Harmony with Nature Holistic Haven
Embracing and Supporting Local People and Charities
|
||||||||||
Angels of Love
When the storms of life burden you down,
when you passionately seek and there's no one to be found.
When dark clouds linger to long to bear,
when life seems empty, does anyone care.
Just turn your head towards the skies to see clouds of silver lining,
the angel of love and compassion is shining.
Pouring angelic shafts of warmth, brilliance and radiant gold,
and your journey through life will then unfold.
Without doubt, without worry, without sadness from now on to afar,
you are special and counted like the heavenly star.
For the angel of love will give you hope, courage and wisdom from above,
drenching your soul with hope, charity and everlasting unconditional love.
Your angel will guide you from gathering storm clouds to brilliant blue,
you will feel uplifted through and through.
And when your burdens pass, just give a little sigh,
give thanks to your angel who remains close by.
So remember your plight when others are weak,
point them upward and let them truly seek,
the same kind of help from angelic hosts above,
that you welcomed,
so pour on their troubled souls a sprinkling of angelic love.
By: Paul John Damari
28th May, 2007
Copyright: Paul John Damari
|
||||||||||
A time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born
and a time to die
A time to plant
and a time to pluck what is planted
A time to kill
and a time to heal
A time to break down
and a time to build up
A time to cast away stones
and a time to gather stones
A time to embrace
and a time to refrain from embracing
A time to gain
and a time to lose
A time to keep
and a time to cast away
A time to tear
and a time to sew
A time to keep silence
and a time to speak
A time of love
and a time of hate
A time of war
and a time of peace
Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8
The Divine Weaver
My life is but a weaving
Author Unknown
God bless you and keep you safe.
Much love
I've just been looking at the inspirational words on your 'Angel Wood Rise' web site and I wondered if you would publish the attached poem on the site as a tribute to my lovely Dad. Give Them The Flowers Now was one of his favourite poems.
Love from Anita.
|
||||||||||
I have only slipped away to the next room...
I am I and you are you...
Whatever we were to each, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak it to me in the same way you always used.
Put no difference into your tone,
Wear no false air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect, without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident.
I am but waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland 1847 - 1918
Canon of St Paul's, London
|
||||||||||
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there I do not sleep.
I am the
thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripen grain,
I am the gentle
autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning,
hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of
quiet birds in circled
flight.
I am the soft stars in the sky at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I
did not died.
|
||||||||||
by Dorothy Frances Blomfield Gurney (1858-1932)
The Lord God planted a garden
In the first white days of the world,
And He set there an angel warden
In a garment of light enfurled.
So near to the peace of Heaven,
That the hawk might nest with the wren,
For there in the cool of the even
God walked with the first of men.
And I dream that these garden-closes
With their shade and their sun-flecked sod
And their lilies and bowers of roses,
Were laid by the hand of God.
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,--
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
For He broke it for us in a garden
Under the olive-trees
Where the angel of strength was the warden
And the soul of the world found ease.
|
||||||||||
To My Dearest Family
There's something I'd
like to say but first of all to let you know, that I arrived ok. I'm writing this from Heaven where I dwell with God above,
where there are no tears or sadness, just one eternal love. Don't be too unhappy just because I'm out of sight. Remember
I am with you, every morning, noon and night.
The day I had to leave you, when my life on earth was through, God picked me up and hugged me, and said, "I welcome you. It's good to have you back again you were missed whilst you were gone. As for your dearest family they will be here, but later on. I need you here so badly as part of my big plan, there is so much for us to do, to help our fellow man".
Then God gave me a list of things to do, and foremost on my list, was to watch over You. I will be beside you every day, week and year, and when you're sad, I will be standing there, to wipe away each tear. When you lie in your bed at night, the days chores put to flight, God and I are close to you, and we will, hold you tight.
When you think of my life on earth, and all those living years, because you're only human, they are bound to bring you tears. But one thing is for certain, though my life on earth is no more, I'm still just as close to you, as I ever was before.
To my many friends, Trust God, he knows best. I'm not very far from you, I'm just beyond the crest. There are rocky roads ahead, and many hills to climb, but together we can do it, taking one step at a time. It was always my philosophy, and I'd like it for you too. If you can help someone who's in sorrow or in pain, then you can say to God at night, "My day was not in vain."
Now I am content that my life on earth was all worthwhile knowing, as I passed through, I made somebody smile. So if you meet someone who is down, or feeling low, just lend a hand to pick them up, as along your way you go. When you're walking down the street, and you've got me in your mind, I'm walking in your footsteps, only half a pace behind. When you feel a gentle breeze, or the wind upon your face, that's only me giving you a great big hug, or just a soft embrace. When it's time for you to go from that body to be free, remember, you're not going, but coming home, to me.
I will always, Love You from that land above. And we will, touch again. You have my word, My Love.
PS. God sends His love.
Sent in By Garry Cotton.
|
||||||||||
Begging
She stands on the corner with her gammy leg,
Arms outstretched and having to beg,
Dress all tatty and worn,
Cursing the day she'd been born,
"A penny, a penny" that’s all she’d cry,
No one noticed just passed her by
Hair ragged and tied up with string,
Another days hunger if no money she brings,
On her feet were neither boots or shoes,
Feet so cold ankles all bruised,
Face like an angel with eyes of pale grey,
But cold and hunger hid her beauty away.
Will no one help this six-year-old child?
From the age of four at begging she toiled,
Someone must help her or at least try,
If no one does then this child will die,
I can not help her that’s why I feel sad,
She begs for me her cripple old dad,
My body is twisted and racked with pain,
I’ll never see another summer again.
If life’s a lesson it teaches it well,
Watching her beg is like looking at hell,
There’s fewer angels in heaven than here on Earth,
My darling has been one from the day of her birth,
She stands on the corner with cup in hand,
Cold, hungry in this green pleasant land.
Pete Hancox
5/1/2000
|
||||||||||
He was a just a homeless person,
On the streets he’s often seen,
Trying to sell his message,
Selling his homeless magazine.
He stood cold and hungry,
Looking at all who passed him by,
Sometimes someone brought one,
While others were to shy.
But most were busy shopping,
They thought he looked a sight,
Only saw his appearance,
To blind to see his light.
Thankfully all are not the same,
One is approaching along the street,
Clare, while out shopping,
She and homeless meet.
Fate that day was smiling,
For both a silent treat,
A magazine seller and a lady,
Two lights for a moment meet.
Between them no words were spoken,
A glance and act said it all,
It only takes a little gift,
And a smile to make one tall.
Clare disappeared into a shop,
Only gone for a little while,
Returned with drink and food,
An angel with a smile.
This gift reminded him he was still a man,
And some people do love and care,
When two hearts are on a single thought,
It’s a warmth all humans share.
That day changed his mind about human nature,
Because of a kindness done that day,
He learnt to see the lights in others,
As she slowly walked away.
Pete Hancox
|
||||||||||
Daffodils a poem
by William Wordsworth
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at
once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing
in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending
line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which
is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
|
||||||||||
"Oh by gum I can still smell it,
Mum by the fire grate stood,
The aroma of yesteryears breakfast,
Of me mum cooking black pud.
In a large old black iron saucepan,
Lard was sizzling and spitting out fat,
Dads asleep on the sofa,
As sis and mum had a chat.
In the pan were pieces of black pudding,
And bacon half covered by beans,
Eggs and chips covered in black bits,
A breakfast I still taste in my dreams.
Mum puts a plate in front of me,
On top of our newspaper cloth,
Bread cut thick as doorsteps,
Jam-jars of tea from the pot.
Mom takes the pan from the fire,
Plops the whole lot on me plate,
Covers the lot with ketchup,
Winks and says, "Get that down ya me mate"
That heavenly smell goes up me nostrils,
Also the bread Hovis bakes,
Alas I’m back in the present,
With a bowl of soggy Cornflakes.
Pete
Hancox.
For tomorrow do not wait
Regards