The obituary notice of Luciane MURFITT

When illness will be no more.

"Let his flesh become fresh with youth; let him return to the days of his youthful vigour."

Job 33:25 (ESV)

"Mes lies huni yw kynsa a vydh diwettha, ha'n re dhiwettha kynsa."

Matthew 19:30

You may be surprised.

"But many who are first will be last, and the last first."

Matthew 19:30 (ESV)

Autumn Days

"Swirling,
Twirling
Autumn leaves
Whooshing,
Whirling
From the trees.

Snapping,
Cracking
Conkers fall.
Dropping,
Popping
Near the wall.

Grouping,
Swooping
Birds up high.
Crying,
Flying
Round the sky.

Curling,
Furling
Smokey fires,
Flowing,
Blowing
Higher, higher."

Brenda Williams
www.topmarks.co.uk

Read a man's character by his treatment of animals.

"Whoever is righteous has regard for the life of his beast,
but the mercy of the wicked is cruel."

Proverbs 12:10 (ESV)

All Things Bright and Beautiful

"All things bright and beautiful,
all creatures great and small,
all things wise and wonderful,
the Lord God made them all.

Each little flow'r that opens,
each little bird that sings,
he made their glowing colours,
he made their tiny wings.

The purple-headed mountain,
the river running by,
the sunset and the morning
that brightens up the sky.

The cold wind in the winter,
the pleasant summer sun,
the ripe fruits in the garden:
he made them ev'ry one.

The tall trees in the greenwood,
the meadows where we play,
the rushes by the water
we gather ev'ry day.

He gave us eyes to see them,
and lips that we may tell
how great is God Almighty,
who has made all things well."

Cecil Frances Alexander (1818 - 1895)

Ode to a Skylark
(extracts)

(1)"Hail to thee, blithe spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from heaven or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

(2)Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest,
Like a cloud of fire,
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

(3)In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

(4)The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight,
Like a star of heaven,
In the broad daylight
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.

(7)What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see,
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.

(12)Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers -
All there ever was
Joyous and clear and fresh - thy music doth surpass."
......
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 - 1822)