A Meditation Upon the Cross of Saint George - poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Meditation Upon the Cross of Saint George

 

 

                                         But on his brest a bloudie Crosse he bore,

                                         The dear remembrance of his dying Lord

 

-The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto I

 

 

A cross of red upon a banner white -

The Saviour’s blood that washes clean our souls

And leaves a stainless field of eternal peace

Where all may dwell in peace in God’s good time

 

No demon or dragon can alienate  

This sacramental flag from the unity of man

No diminuitives or false forbiddings

Can deny to any its unfailing glory

 

And thus

 

Let every man be God’s true Red Crosse Knight

Protective, brave, and humble under one true Light

Not Waiting for Godot - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Not Waiting for Godot

 

We pass much of our lives in waiting for things

 

Airplanes

Love

Christmas

Jobs

Answers

Mail

Spectrum Cable

You

 

Mostly, though, we wait for packages from Amazon

Maybe this time there will be happiness

Easter Monday: Did Anyone Think to Roll the Stone Back into Place? - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Did Anyone Think to Roll the Stone Back into Place?

 

Easter Monday

 

Did cemetery management offer a refund?

(High quality burials don’t come cheap, you know)

And what happened to the guards posted to that tomb?

Probably a disciplinary write-up

 

Easter Tuesday

 

Upper Room Inc. sent a bill for a missing Cup

(We can’t have people pinching stuff, okay?)

At least it wasn’t a fraternity party

And the taxes these days; you wouldn’t believe!

 

Easter Wednesday

 

This stuff about miracles just makes me scoff

(Say, boss, can I have this next Sunday off?)

"Ladies - or Should I say Astronauts" - Blue Origin and some Shrieking

 

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

“Ladies…or Should I say Astronauts…”

 

-as spoken in reverence and awe on the CBC

 

Shriek! Cackle! Giggle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Omidgod! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Giggle! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Giggle! Omigod! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Giggle! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!

A Roadside Snapping Turtle in April - poem

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

A Roadside Snapping Turtle in April

 

If you’d spent the winter

Sleeping deep down in the mud

You’d be snappish too!

God's Wounds - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

God’s Wounds

 

Sumy, Ukraine, Palm Sunday 2025

 

Ukraine wanted to welcome Jesus today

To welcome Him with the branches of willows

As is their custom on Palm Sunday, for they have no palms

But this holy day brought them Putin and bombs

 

Little children wanted to welcome Jesus today

They died with willows in their tiny hands

Burning in the wreckage, in their Sunday best

Sirens and explosions, screams and blood

 

The faithful of Sumy wanted to welcome Jesus today

But what Putin has written he has written -

                                          he has written them away

Some Poor Rhymes for Easter - doggerel

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

 

Some Poor Rhymes for Easter

 

 

“There is a time for penance and a time for partridge.”

 

-Saint Teresa of Avila

 

 

Processions and prayers among the cloisters

Weary pilgrims in their thread-bare habits

The faithful beading Aves and Pater Nosters -

Still,

There is much to be said for chocolate rabbits!