This poem resonated with me — and I think it will for lots others out there too, especially, Prof Donna L Roberts . Hope you enjoy it too x JUST A DOG From time to time, people tell me, “lighten up, it’s just a dog,” or “that’s a lot of money for just…

This universe is nothing but a shithole for the unknown of our place in it. Different planets may have the same problems as we do. However, Aliens looking for a change would be well advised to give our world a miss. In the future, maybe, but taking a look now…

A night of wonder. Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, That is known as the Children’s Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that…

A Chat with a God? John J McCarrick Had a word with God today, I think its God. “How’s your day been?” I ask, “Quiet, noisy, anything like that? After all, it is the New Year. Silly question! You, God, seem to have a lot of irons in the fire…

Survey of Five-to eight-year-old Children’s Questions. Which shouldn’t remain unanswered? John J McCarrick I remember from years gone by, an American programme on TV called, ‘Kids say the darndest things.’ And this is so true. Even so, are we actually answering these questions in an appropriate way? …

Original Piece and setting. The aftermath of war. John J McCarrick Do you hear that noise, / it’s the noise of peace. / Quiet, all consuming, deafening in its intensity. / Yet so peaceful, it seems like the inside of a church, or a lift ride up a snowy mountain./…

The Flowers from His Grave By John McCarrick I visit this place, Once in every week. To place upon his grave, A bunch of flowers and a leek. *** Being Welsh you see, it’s important, that the leek is always there. So, he can make his soup, Whenever he may care. *** But on this day, someone dallied by the grave. Suspicions this did raise upon myself, Better keep a lookout and be very, brave. *** Grave robber doing nothing good.

Clouds The last rays of sunlight slowly sliding by, We witness the crowns way up on high. Nodding, waving goodbye to the day Funny faces we’ve seen, some, maybe not. Dogs cows and bears abound. And we observe the lot. So soon to be devoured, by the advent of night. Grey slivers hanging on, avoiding the fight. Ink stains, all that remains are in sight. Trees pulling the blanket of night air about them.

Soar Like an Eagle. J J McCarrick On brightly gilded wings, the Eagle does soar. Daring, she skims the mountains below. Even the wind cannot hear her plaintiff roar. Down there below her, land wild and grey. She needs no roads to steer by, during these days. …