Best Anglican Poems
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON AND HOLY SPIRIT
Born and baptised in the Greek orthodox faith,
Often went to church with my dad at the Anglican
Church, kissed the Pope’s ring when he visited
The Convent, all the way from the Vatican,
Held a key in my heart and soul for all three of
These religions, that is how it was meant to be,
Decorative Rosaries, Christmas Carols that I love,
Hand painted Greek Icons , all destined to be, an
Integral, all-encompassing and faithful entire me!
In his youth he became an Anglican deacon,
but the doubts about Protestantism beset him
and after further study,
he returned to Catholicism.
Young Jesuit priest,
arrested by priest hunters
in Anglican England
for teaching about the Christ.
He was convicted of high treason
and executed in England,
which had been Catholic for a 1000 of years,
later religious difficulties arose.
Priest Campion said before his martyrdom:
"In condemning us, the Catholic priests,
you condemn all your own ancestors,
all our ancient bishops and kings…”
In every direction that the wind blows
The bulbs of the narcissus bulge and bloom
In all of latitude doth the wind grows
Brushing its floral leaves, dost the wind groom
For acres the narcissus flowers loom
Abroad earths garden in a village where
Anglican Nuns approached the natives there
Of black habit, the garment that they wore
Hid everything except their nose and eyes
Now of great faith, the Nuns, in all were four
Gave praise from hour to hour 'til darkened skies
Thus of their faith, a cherished noble prize
Of glory in the power they would mend
The land amongst an atmospheric wind
Slicing into the spring the sun would shed
His light unto earths dark exploited trail
As nature, bathed in beauty, blew and spread
Throughout the village like an handsome male
Faces revealed, the Nuns removed their veil
Seduced by sensuality they saw
And vanity the narcissus would draw
Johnny Sumler
Rhyme Royal
Grandad says that Easter isn’t funny
You won’t find him at parties
Dressed up as the Easter bunny
He’ll not be scoffing chocolate eggs
Or anything like that
He’ll be putting on his Sunday best
And dusting off his hat
For Grandad is an Anglican
Of serious intent
Does bible study when he can
And gave up cake for Lent
He says that Jesus died for me
And I’d best not forget it
But seeing as I’m only three
I’m sorry, I don’t get it
My Granny, now my Granny, mind
She has a different view
She leaves me little eggs to find
In places like my shoe
The smell of Granny’s hot cross buns
Is paradise and bliss
She makes me little special ones
Topped with a tiny kiss
Granny says God loves me
As she makes my Easter bonnet
With a smile as she carefully
Sews flowers and bees upon it
Let Grandad do religious stuff
The crucifixion thing
I’m only really old enough
For Granny, and the Spring
Grandad’s back from church now
Saying ‘Jesus rose for you’
‘Well, bless us all’ my Granny says
‘The buns are risen too’
by Gail
The Organ and the Flame - St James Anglican Cathedral, Toronto
The organist, practicing,
and I are alone;
unseen by one other.
The pews tremble.
The vast volume of air vibrates with each note.
The morning sun illuminates
the works of mercy in brilliant colours.
Brass and marble plaques adorn the solid stone walls
proclaiming magnificent deeds, selfless sacrifice, pitifully young lives ended.
My heart,
my consciousness,
my spirit,
(Dare I say my soul?)
are awakened.
A bank of glowing candles beckons.
As the organ reaches a crescendo
the tiny flames flicker in time
and I am revived.
Having said that
for all of us, dear friends,
not left any other way at all
going to the worth life and prosperity
except turn to Crist
who just partly known for some of us as a prophet Isa
completely shadowed by Lenin, Marks and Muhammad.
All other way
as you clearly see
degraded, downgraded,
run out, vanishing
or dying in empty air,
dear brethren, close one and relates.
Believe me, please,
albeit I am not prophet and strong lieder,
I just tell you as honest man
who lived with you in country and region
that survived in short time several revolutions
and innumerous plots, famines, calamities, civil wars
and others fatal experiments
under the ruling of our brainless governors and corruptive, cursed advisers.
I am just not want left you
you children and grandchildren
for another decades and tragic long circle
of multiplying and growing
disasters, slandering and gloomy perspectives
with Ortodocs Russian churches
and Russian neoimperializm
or with Islamic fanatics
or Chinese market communism,
flourishing and looks promising now,
even the West Catholicism and Protestantism
and Anglican church
do not preferable and helpfull now,
the same a free market economy and ideology
on the base of US modern democracy
with giant corporations of greedy richest person
leading world from one crisis to another
cannot been worshiped by us,
even the best example of Swiss, Denmark, Singapore
and other small prosperity countries
could not inspire and attract us anymore.
Only turning to eternal Truth and values
and keeping the highest moral Code,
precepts and commandments
prescribed for us and every one
by the holy olders from Bible -
love to neighbor and love to God
and Crist,s readiness for sacrifice our private life
for others benefits
would help us find out and see
the far light in the channel of darkness -
only way going our nation and country
toward save and prosperity
and God’s blessing status and standarts.
We are all
with such or other way
have lead, moved himself or drifted out
from eternal Truth.
We are all
lived in Crist
or hidden of him
attracted to him
or betryed him,
escaping from his commandments
for convenient and comforting
existence in lies.
We are all
have splatted and grouped
for dozen religious and
hundredths branches and currents
growing from one stalk and foundation.
All specters and retrospects
of human searching and breaktroths
turnings and returnings
towards one Truth
with such or other way.
Russian orthodoxies,
Roman Catholics’,
Islam religious,
Anglican churches,
The Protestants confections,
Judaism,
Buddhizm, Sintoizm, Shamanizm and Tengrians
together with Communizms ideologies
These are all absolutely
the recollections of Crist,
prognozing him
predicting his transcendence,
visioning his laws
vaguely, clearly on not so
or creating heavy deformed image
of one Eternal Truth
who coming to us,
or gone near us
or blocked long ago
with our own falsehood, trades and traditions.
For over a year quiet it lay,
the big gray stones in the walls
framing what seemed more
empty tomb than church--
the stained glass windows
did not sing out their beauty
for no one was there to hear...
well, God, as He's everywhere,
but not his priests, nor sextons
nor ushers, and no worshipers as
they were all sheltering at home.
But isn't a church [or temple or
mosque] the home of believers?
Why did they all stay away when
the terrible storm plagued all
parts of an unprepared world?
When Jesus slept in the boat
as a tempest plagued his men,
men who saw his work every day,
who knew his power, his other-
worldly love, his lonely communion
with his Father, yet still they feared,
like children terrified of the dark.
And then in their cowardice they
scolded Jesus for falling asleep!
For leaving them naked to the
brutal wind and stinging rains...
and his heart must have cracked
a bit to see that his chosen ones
were still blind and deaf and dumb.
Yet our church, our lovely stone
church built in the Anglican style
of the last century when faith
was still central to most lives,
welcomed us, the handful or two
of mostly aging or old worshipers
who came to talk to God as one,
to sing to God as a single voice,
to listen for His ever so quiet Word,
just a whisper, so easy to miss...
Liberal Christians are in denial,
About how much they validate,
The fundamentalist church old,
Because the same story is told.
I know that the Queen, royalty,
Is a liberal, but that’s irrelevant,
Because history will offer people,
A legacy of the Christian steeple.
When fundamentalist’s err and sin,
They go to their Christian friends bin,
For a validation that’s assumed,
From society’s morals consumed.
Christians back in the seventies,
Were innocent even if felt guilty,
And they would even site the Queen,
To describe their reputation lean.
You can’t do that anymore, thankfully,
Because kids have iPhones, Samsungs,
So communication can made directly,
By the child who may just feel feckly.
I think the state should intervene,
And turn the tables on ancient history,
By dictating to the Anglican world,
Their faith healing rights burled.
It’s not difficult to see and realise,
That fundamentalism goes to far,
So if we set laws for Anglicans,
Then we’ll all be better citizens.
Eerie beauty and mystery
Permeate gray stones
Forming a temple,
An observatory, a timepiece
For Britain's earliest arrivals
Who left ancestors buried
In pagan mounds awaiting
The Anglican God.
By moonlight the Druids,
Wandering the grounds
Once their domain,
Performed ceremonial rites
Not revealed by the ages.
I
There was a time, when we sought comprehension
These days, power and media aim for control, commercialization
II
Alan Watts, once a native Anglican, became American Episcopalian
Left the ministry to teach Eastern philosophy, holistic education
III
Alan has left planet Earth (1970s), is beyond thought police, "mistake" -
Said, "One ought to get angry with someone like Hitler. But he's as natural as an earthquake."
Auspiciously, Authentic
Artificial, Ateller
Artistic, Author
Astutely, Aware
Astronomically, Astounding
Arrogantly, Aroused
Argumentative, American
****, Authority
Apostolic, Action
Anglo-phonic, Anglican
Ambiguously, Ambidextrous
All around, Affectionate
Absolutely, Adament
Abiding, Ability
Arranging, Alphabetically
I had to try this for my Mary, How did I do Honey?
To our Christian Public:
Anglican or Catholic
But also to The Interested Muslim
Abdullah or Taslim,
Vacancies have we for A Cleaner,
Whose Sense of Hygiene is keener,
A Customer-Friendly Waiter,
Not wishing to be tipped later,
A Vibrant Security man,
Who would all entrances man,
A No-Nonsense Bartender
But can be a lot tender,
A Damned Experienced Driver
In Oceanic Traffic, A Diver!
A Flower-Treasuring Gardener
“To The Pencils A Sharpener!”
A Much-Talked-About Cook,
Whose tasty dishes have a nice look
And A Tireless Dishwasher
Who should sometimes serve as Usher …
The Interested to strictly apply in person,
Preferably as referee An Imam or Parson …
Salary “Very Tempting!”
You wouldn’t need much prompting …
bells
from edges of my dreams
a morning chorus
begins softly.
in the forest meadow
a slow plodding rhythm
sways closer,
brings
recognition.
cow bell’s,
their tinny clunk made more melodious,
all harshness trapped
among the evergreen branches
on bedewed trees.
Hick’s cows, their udders full,
seek relief from the soft handed girl
who waits at the gate
their music is joined
by the bell from
the old Anglican church tower
perched on the hill behind the barn,
it shyly peel’s out a message.
both sounds intertwine, ascend
flow over still somnolent water,
not even the fish are jumping yet,
the heavenly praise loses it self
in the primeval woods.
Sunday bells
early summer morning
Inglesby Bay.
They married in their own garden under the canopy of a Wild Date Tree
An indigenous plant standing tall for sweetness and benevolent spirits
This one untamed and miraculously withstanding droughts in the City of Gold
It gave meaning to their union which had begun with similar unbroken desire
A small bonfire at midday crackled with pure passion and unified souls
It was warm in their hearts and droplets of faith embraced the heat
Shadows of yesteryear’s clouds had retreated from sorrow and sadness
Not long ago the two lovers had eloped into sunshine and started again
A small party of family and friends sat on the grass casually dressed
The bride in an attire from Camden market wore a rose petal crown
That matched the floral display on his colourful shirt which was in date
With Hippie dreams and nostalgic reverberation of rebellion and Peace
Her Anglican priest had refused to wed them ‘I need to ask my bishop
Who would have to absolve you from the sin of divorce and new love’
They found a Lutheran pastor who arrived dressed in African garb
Aptly with crash helmet and Harley Davidson with a roar to his engine
The lovers had decided against fireworks because they would resemble
Gunshots rather endemic in Johannesburg for all the wrong reasons
Sparklers would do nicely and sky lanterns floated into heaven above
Reached high rising feelings released bright unequivocal compassion
‘We honour our ancestors with all their beauty and divine guidance’
They proposed followed by clapping of hands and a rain dance’s vows
The sun sent its rays to bless everyone in the congregation of well-wishers
When it started to rain at the same time they danced naked in the spray
When such water and solar power combines at such a meaningful time and
Forms a rainbow presiding over the ceremony it’s called monkey’s wedding
And its display brings grace and good luck to withstand vagaries and misfortune
With a ring he gave her a wild date as the fruit never failed to deliver its promise
01st July 2019