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Ash Wednesday

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The day and the hour draws nigh  When all shall return to Him  Who did form them of word and clay  And did give to  all His own breath  And set them upon the earth to tend  And to possess it for a time.  Before him, all shall stand  Bare, silent, helpless.  Fear, you sons of men, tremble!  Fall prostrate before Him.  Shred the malice of  your heart  And drop that haughty look  For of all nails that did stab Him;  That vain look is most piercing.  For what are thou, son of man?  A puff of smoke, wisp of air, dust That lingers but for a moment  And vanishes without trace.  Why do you now risk His wrath?  And court His just fury?  Take this ash upon the brow  Bend your knee and look not up  But hasten to declare your fault  And wail in lamentation:  "Spare us, O master!  For our guilt is heavier  Than ever we can bear" . First published - 01.03.2017

A Christmas Carol

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Oh blessed of days that did break!  When God appeared in form of man,  To suffer worldly scorn for love’s sake How shall we celebrate your breaking?   He left lofty throne and palace above,  To wear our very human frailty,  And bear the pains of abject penury;  That He may cheer a gloomy world.  How shall we celebrate Your Name?  Oh creator God turned creature,  To bear the affliction of Your creation,  Rejected, despised and reviled by same;  And yet turn not from bitter cup to drink  Nor bid Your just vengeance to rise,  But looking through Mercy’s eyes,  Did forgive all with bountiful love.  Clap for joy all you verdant creation. Mosses and giant oaks, sway in dance! He who in brilliant green did cloak you, In humble form comes to play in your shade, And your perishable fruit with relish to eat. Sing out you sullied streams of the land! Who with crystal clear waters filled you, Comes now to wash and cleanse you again.  Rejoice you p

Everyone Sang

It was a beauteous night, dusty and cold  And we were all mum and droopy  Whilst the preacher droned on  And the rest of the world lived on  An expectant harmattan swirled around  As stemmed waters must feel bound  Yet gyrating as one tickled in erogenous places  On and on and on towards the climax  The cold outside threatened to come in  And we held our sweaters to ourselves  As we gazed at the clock ahead  Inching ever closer to the new year  Suddenly everyone’s tongue was loosed Everyone’s voice was lifted in praise And sang in generous grateful tones As we leapt in joyous ecstasy Turning round and about  We embraced and hugged and waved And with beamish smiles Hailed each in greeting..." Bein paali !*" Life and beauty poured out as at sunrise And my secret heart glowed with love And gratitude for life, family, friends Oh that the singing would never end! 17th January 2019 Accra. *Bein paali - Happy New year! You can also find this poem and other poe

The Preachers

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To everything there’s a season  Or so it is written in the Book  But now that is untenable  In fact, we reject it!  We do everything in the same season.  A time to sleep and time to wake?  No, it is all preaching time  If they sleep or we rest,  We lose collection!  A time to work and time to church?  No, it is all preaching time  There is no time for anything else!