King James Bible

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Four hundred years
of the King James Bible.
The blood sweat and tears
Of six writing panels
Produced a text
Which united a kingdom
To post-Elizabethan revival.
Still read today,
Words of great majesty
Hell, fire and brimstone
Meet faith, hope and charity
A piece of England’s history
And linguistic gift to the world.
Can’t vouch for the science
But there’s power in the words.

Having read an interesting article about the origins of the King James Bible, I’ve decided to give it a proper read. Aside from its obvious religious role, it is the origin of so many phrases and sayings we still use today.

The skin of my teeth
How are the mighty fallen
Be horribly afraid
From time to time
As a lamb to the slaughter
Beat their swords into ploughshares
Turned the world upside down
A thorn in the flesh
Fell flat on his face
Get thee behind me
A man after his own heart
Set thine house in order

It’s interesting to read passages which are completely familiar, and not. Also to note things which myth, custom and the Disneyfication of culture have added to popular folklore but aren’t actually there – no unicorns perish in Noah’s floods, just a lot of un-named things which ‘creepethed on the earth’.

It’s also remarkable how little time, and how few words, are spent on massively significant and controversial topics – creation for example. The language though is rich, terse and magisterial.

A life’s work. For a disputed King and his ecclesiastical writing panels, quite literally.

Yorkshire Pud

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Yorkshire Pud
God’s own food
From his very own county
Filled with gravy
Really tasty
Kids a bit doubtful
Until their first mouthful
Get through a plateful
And for once are grateful
Can we have them again?
Next time can you do a tray full?

A morning of baking and cooking rounded off with sausages, Yorkshire pudding and gravy. Perfect. And an unusually appreciative audience.

Autumn Sunrise

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On a misty morning
With the kids in the car
Turning left
The surprise of a huge sun
Low in the sky
A silver gold blob
Just too bright to stare at
Not too bright to blind
Heralds
An emergent phenomenon
Not easily had
Coming into being
In my busy head
Happiness
More than a brain state
A life lived instead
Myriad things
In work at home at play
To bring together
Before it is found
Easily lost
A single moment can confound
But in simple pleasures
Doing the right things
Caring for people
About things
And oneself
Happiness shines
At times
Just too bright to stare at
Not too bright to blind.

I talked to a taxi driver today – an old man and a nice one. He revealed he studied art a good many years ago. Very much against the odds on a scholarship, he went to the art school at the bottom of our road – near where he was taking me.

He said other cabbies sometimes mock when he says he paints, but it brings him great peace and satisfaction. I owned up that I’ve started writing poetry too. We found ourselves kindred spirits. It’s not always the winning, it’s often the taking part with art. This poem refers to yesterday, but some of the warm glow spilled into today’s conversation.

Weekend Fun

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Wobbles

Bike and scooter
In the boot
Me and the boy
Off for a scoot
He’s a bit wobbly
But getting the hang
Of his shiny red bike
Until he has a prang
The distraction of pals
Takes its toll
Adverse camber
Yields a painful fall
It means a sore elbow
For my little friend
Tears and a hug
Pull him together again
He gets back on
Then pedals slowly
An ice cream pit stop
And he’s weaving home boldly.

Snap, Crackle & Pop

Scarcely awake
And a request to bake
Inspiration strikes
Rice Krispy cakes
Sweet and simple
Lots of sprinkles
Helpful daughter
A satisfied customer.