Just heard from Canon Andrew White, Vicar of Baghdad, about the desperate situation in Iraq now that the US forces have left. There remains hope ... but it needs us to share the love of that baby who came so far to save us.


Look into the stable, feel the warmth inside.
See the loving mother, see the loving child.
See the adoration, hands and gifts are raised -
hear the angels worship, all creation praise ...


"Glory to God, in the highest place;
on the earth there will be peace",
if we share redeeming grace.


Look outside the stable, still the world's the same.
There's no room for Jesus, so few know his name.
Many hands are lifted as war and famine reign.
Hear the prayers of nations, as we cry again.



"Glory to God, in the highest place;
on the earth there will be peace",
if we share redeeming grace.


Look into your heart now, what do you see there?
Is there hope and comfort or a deep despair?
look back to the stable where the Promise lay,
hear the words of Jesus, "I AM com to save!"



"Glory to God, in the highest place;
on the earth there will be peace",
if we share redeeming grace.


(C) 2003 Graham Oakes

Folk at the Parish ...


Thursday, 1st December 2011 I read some poems at Merthyr Tydfil in aid of MacMillan Cancer Support and included a new one written for the occasion about Dic Penderyn, after whom the local Witherspoons is named! Nice curries on Thursdays!

"Dyma Gamwedd!"

Innocence is no defence

when scapegoats are required;

caught up in something bigger

than a single, just desire.

You march with fellow workers

their passion in your soul;

with little thought that very soon

you’ll have the starring role.

A soldier takes a bloody wound,

and you, my friend, were there.

So from the crowd you’re singled out

to cries of “that’s not fair!”’

The Government has had enough

of  Welshmen on the move.

They want to crush our wide dissent

they have a point to prove.

Against the power of Gentry rule,

of money and of might,

the workers’ cause is brought to heel

and many put to flight.

But you, young Dic Penderyn,

must stand upon the door.

And while you wait you tell them all

just what you’re dying for.

“O Arglwydd, dyma gamwedd!”

“Lord, this is so unjust!”

And still this cry does echo,

and listen still they must!

© 2011

Also read this one which was written for Gail ...

Colour me ...

Onto the landscape

of my waiting canvas

brush me with love

and the finest of care.

Colour me free

with the joy of your laughter;

colour me deep

with the warmth of your smile.

Blue for the Spring

when we found each other,

and for your eyes

when they sparkle with fun.

Gold for the Summers

that we shared together,

and for your hair

that shines in the sun.

Brown for the Autumn:

its rhymes and its reasons

the richest of blessings,

for you are my wife.

Grey for the Winter

that closes the seasons,

yet hidden beneath it

the promise of life. 

© 2005