Paignton (Palace Avenue) Methodist Church

 

Palace Avenue, Paignton, Devon, TQ3 3EQ.

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'Newslink' Index


'Newslink' - Poems

Click here for more songs and tunes composed by Derek Elson - a member of this church
If you like the music on this page click above for the words of the song

WELL  I  NEVER !
BY A STABLE BOY IN BETHLEHAM WITH A DEVONSHIRE ACCENT!

                            Boss told me I must clean up the shed.
                            I dunno what got into his head.
                            Donkey and goat, they couldn’t care less.
                            Well, I care about it - and look at the mess!

                            Boss said you never know just who might call;
                            Fat chance anyone fussy at all.
                            Donkey and cow are thinking I’m mad;
                            The place idden dirty - well ’tidn’t too bad.

            * * * * *

                            And, didn’t I get a great big surprise!
                            I couldn’t believe my very own eyes.
                            There was donkeys and camels all over the place,
                            And shepherds, and posh blokes all satin and lace.

                            I never did see such a fancy affair
                            And biggest surprise?  A BABY was there.
                            Boss said I really must learn to behave
                            And pay no attention to what’s in the cave. 

                            The mother and father is quiet and still.
                            Seems they have had some wonderful thrill.
                            They both got a great big smile on their face.
                            I’d never believe it was just our old place.

                            Sylvia Tancock
                                    December, 2009

-ooOOoo-

THE GARDEN

                            I must go to the garden;
                            The awful task is there
                            And I must break the vessel;
                            Rich perfume fills the air.

                            This act of love awaits me.
                            My heart I cannot still,
                            And yet I feel compulsion,
                            The task of love to fill.

                            Sweet Lord, how can I breathe, now
                            That you no longer live.
                            Your every word, so precious.
                            You had so much to give.

                            I know that you have promised
                            To ever be my guide,
                            That I will hear your footsteps
                            And know you’re by my side.

                            The memory of this garden
                            Of fear and tears and pain,
                            The sacrifice you made here
                            I know was not in vain.

                             Sylvia Tancock
                                                2009

-ooOOoo-

ONE MORNING EARLY …..

                           My treasure chest of precious things
                           Was filled with love and care.
                           Each item bought with hoarded gold
                           Before it was placed there.

                          “Extravagant”.  So some had said
                           For perfect each must be,
                           So rich and beautiful and rare.
                           The very best for me.

                           And now, this day!  This awful day
                           Which heralded my fears,
                           I scarce could see the lovely things
                           Through eyes so full of tears.

                           Now carrying the precious load
                           I walked, with lowered head.
                           Then, as I neared the garden fair
                           My heart was filled with dread.

                           And yet, and yet I could not tell
                           How He, I knew was dead,
                           No longer lay within the tomb,
                           And all the soldiers fled.

                           Then, as He spoke, I dropped my box
                           And spilled the perfumes sweet.
                           I ran to hold Him once again
                           And knelt to kiss His feet.

                           He lives!  He lives!  How blessed that sound.
                           My heart with joy o’er flows
                           As lovingly the Master said
                                 “Go tell them I arose”.                                 
                                                                                                                Sylvia Tancock

-ooOOoo-

OUR CHURCH                       

                            A hundred and umpteen years ago
                            Some folk made a decision
                            To build a church of stone and wood
                            And so fulfil a vision.

                            The walls they built were tall and strong,
                            The windows showered light.
                            The place they built was high and wide
                            To praise HIS power and might.

                            The furnishings were chosen next,
                            And as with one accord,
                            Rows of pews, an organ too.
                            A place to praise their Lord.

                            The organ was OK - but small -
                            Quite adequate for singing
                            Alleluias to their God
                            And set the building ringing.

                            Oaken pews were next installed,
                            Divided down the middle
                            So Ma and Pa sat separate -
                            Quite why is still a riddle!

                            A pulpit next to preach the word;
                            A place to “do” a child,
                            For folk to wed or bring their dead,
                            Sacred and undefiled.

                            Then came the people young and old,
                            They came to sing and pray,
                            And left for us a legacy
                            Which lives through us today.

                            A place to welcome faithful souls,
                            To meditate or sing;
                            To glory in the Spirit’s power
                            And worship Christ the King.

                                               Eric Gordon

-ooOOoo-

HERE WE GO AGAIN!

                            It’s coming ‘round. That time of year
                            I know that I will fret.
                            What can I give to Uncle Jim
                            That he would like to get?
                            And what of dear old Auntie Maud?
                            Her flat can’t take more stuff.
                            I guess I’ll knit some more bedsocks.
                            She will not throw a huff.

                            And as for snooty cousin Gert
                            Who needs just nothing more,
                            I’ll look to see if I can find
                            A ‘something’ in my store.
                            I’m really feeling rather broke.
                            A curse, my credit card,
                            But satisfying everyone
                            Is getting much too hard.

                            The trouble is, we have too much.
                            There’s nothing that we need
                            While half the world is hungry!
                            No!  No, Christmas isn’t  greed.
                            Ideas come into my head!
                            Yes, I will use my float
                            And buy a gift that never ends.
                            I think I’ll buy a goat.

                            I’ve read about the little scheme.
                            For people in their need,
                            A lasting gift, that they will share
                            With many more, to feed.
                            I’m feeling very, very sure
                            My Father will approve.
                            He gave me all He had to give –
                            My Saviour – with his love. 

                                                                      © Sylvia Tancock

-ooOOoo-

MAKING POVERTY HISTORY

We live in a green and pleasant land,
Where food and water are close to hand.
Our homes are filled with the latest gadget,
With so much credit, there's no need to budget.

We change our cars with rapid ease,
And buy new clothes whenever we please.
Our children go to school to learn,
Then on to work, good money to earn.

Some go to church to praise the Lord,
Into the collection, what we can afford.
We are taught to think of our poor neighbour
Who is loved the same by our dear Saviour.

In some countries far away,
Massive debts they have to pay.
Life is hard and full of strife,
No food or water is a fact of life.

Our neighbours life is not like ours,
They live under rulers who abuse their powers.
Killings, rape, homes burnt to the ground,
Look in their eyes, no hope is found.

In Africa every three seconds someone dies,
We must take off the blinkers, open our eyes.
Toddlers die of the common cold,
Life expectancy is thirty four years old.

Every day there's something new on TV.
Orphaned children, babies with HIV.
We can do something to help their state,
We must pressure leaders of the G.8

Wipe off the amount they need to pay,
Trading fairly, is another way.
What are we doing across this land?
Well, many of us wear a white band.

This is to show we really care,
The love of Jesus we need to share.
He loves us all, black and white,
Rich or poor, all equal in His sight.

Whatever we may choose to do,
Is really up to me and you.
Just let us care for our poor neighbour,
Who is loved so much by our dear Saviour.

© Irene Cochran

-ooOOoo-

THE CLOCK TICKS ON ......

If I could turn the clock back,
I would have stayed away.
I wish I'd never learned to make
The nails they used that day.

If I could turn the clock back,
I would have stayed away,
Not see a mother, weeping there
As life just ebbed, that day.

If I could turn the clock back,
I would not take the pay.
A Roman soldier's honour true
Was really shamed, that day.

++++++++++++++++++++++

I cannot turn the clock back!
Now I can only say
“Lord, forgive me. `Twas my sin
For which you died, that day."

© Sylvia Tancock

-ooOOoo-

ADMISSION
(Words of inspiration spoken by Nigel Lockett before his Baptism)
Click here to see pictures of Nigel's Baptism

Today’s the day, things are suddenly animated
I’m joining in a cause I never really rated.
I still can’t believe it, I’m really in favour
I was always a slacker, a bit of a raver.

But now I’ve arrived I’ll train really hard
I’ll work on my gifts and develop my guard
It wasn’t deliberate, the rules I skirted,
You see precious Lord I just got diverted.

I was weak, I was foolish, stupid for many a day,
I thought I could get there in my own selfish way.
I held back for so long, the wrong side of the railings,
But Hey!
Jesus loves me in spite of my failings.

And now a new dawning,
I awake from my slumber.
A new sense of purpose,
A new tingle of wonder.

I know I face challenges I will have to take on,
But that’s a fair price for being along.
Now when you are new and bright as a pin
You don’t want to fall flat or get into a spin.

I want to serve you well Lord,
Repay some of my dues,
But I cannot see which way to go,
I think I need more clues.

I’m sure I must seem dull
I know I’m looking slow,
I want to share this joy with others
But I don’t know which way to go.

Use me in your work Lord
Ever mindful of my luck
Help me move things forward
Overcoming feeling stuck.

So, give me your love Lord, show me a route,
Train me and prime me, starting gun ready to shoot.
Hold me when I falter, steady me should I stumble,
Make me LOUD in your praise Lord,
Please don’t let me mumble.

I make you this promise, I always will keep,
To serve in your kingdom not falling asleep.
Lord, I will run the best race that I can,
Not worthy, but willing,
An ordinary man.

© Nigel Lockett - spoken before his Baptism - 04 July 2004

-ooOOoo-

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

I learned the trade from my father,
As he had done before.
There were always customers coming,
Knocking on the door.
They knew that we would never
Sell tools that were not good.
That each one couldn't fail, but
Work just as it should.
Even the Romans, sometimes
Ask for our special brand
'Cos. though they are rather fussy,
Find that ours are grand.
And as I walked the streets here
I'd be feeling fine
When I saw someone using
One that I knew was mine.

But now, I wish that never
Had I come to make
Tools, that this day the sight of
Cause me now to shake.
The hours were full of horror!
Even the sunlight died.
Yet though the sky was dark then,
I was darker still inside.
The soldier seemed to be grinning
As he hit each nail;
And when I saw the hammer I began to pale.
When he had finished swinging,
The tool was tossed aside.
But never will I forget it.
I wish it was me that died!

© S.M.T.

-ooOOoo-

I asked for health that I might do greater things;
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked God for strength that I might achieve;
I was made weak that I might learn to obey.
I asked for riches that I might be happy;
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power and the praise of men;
I was given weakness to sense my need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life;
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing I asked for but everything I hoped for;
In spite of myself, my prayers were answered -
I am among all men most richly blessed.

Anonymous

-ooOOoo-

GOD IS NEVER BEYOND OUR REACH

No-one ever sought the Father
And found He was not there
And no burden is too heavy
To be lightened by a prayer,
No problem is too intricate
And no sorrow that we face
Is too deep and devastating
To be softened by His grace,
No trials and tribulations
Are beyond what we can bear
If we share them with the Father
As we talk to Him in prayer -
And men of every colour,
Every race and every creed
Have but to seek the Father
In their deepest hour of need -
God asks for no credentials,
He accepts us with our flaws,
He is kind and understanding
And He welcomes us because
We are His erring children
And He loves us every one,
And He freely and completely
Forgives all that we have done,
Asking only if we’re ready
To follow where He leads -
Content that in His wisdom
He will answer all our needs.
("Ask, and it shall be given you;
Seek, and ye shall find;
Knock and the door shall be opened
Unto you." Matthew 7.7)

By Doris Lacey

-ooOOoo-

I’m going to another place
that mortals cannot see.
I’m going now to meet my Lord
So don’t you weep for me.

He guided me throughout my life,
He shared my joys and pain,
He made the greatest Sacrifice,
He died and rose again.

Death is no end but just a start
No weary ways to plod
Eternal life and happiness
Immortal joy with God.

JD

-ooOOoo-

MARY

How could she bear
To stand beneath blue sky
And see this Man, her son
Hanging there to die.

And when the day
Made night, as blue turned black,
She thought about her Babe
Born in lowly shack.

Her heart must now,
Like Temple veil, be torn
As Jesus bled and died:
Awful Friday morn.

A young sweet maid
God chose to bear His Son.
As tears now flowed, she knew
God's will she had done.

© Sylvia Tancock

-ooOOoo-

WHAT AM I GOING TO CELEBRATE?

I didn't expect to be born;
To arrive in this big, open space.
I didn’t know that I should come
To a plan, that's already in place.

I am glad that I didn't know
Of my part in the great human race.
I'm glad that I wasn't told
To expect all the turmoil and chase.

BUT,

He knew why He was to come.
He knew what He had to face.
He knew that God's plan for Him
Was to save me, with His loving grace.

© Sylvia Tancock

-ooOOoo-

CALMING PRAYER FOR THE BEREAVED

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the soft uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die.

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Music - Copyright © Derek Elson 2000 - Paignton (Palace Avenue) Methodist Church
Last modified: July 2010