The Parish Church of St George the Martyr, Waterlooville
Continuing our series of extracts from past editions of St George’s Book of Poems…..
Winter Edition 2014
St George’s Book of Poems
The Church Treasurer
Write a poem for the book please, said Jane.
For days I’ve been racking my brain,
Inspiration won’t come,
There are accounts to be done
All in a Treasurer’s day.
I need all my fingers and thumbs
To help me with my sums.
To the bank each week I go
In the wind and the rain, shine or snow.
Oh! Why are five pences so small?
To count up they’re the worst of all.
All in a Treasurer’s week.
The quota has got to be paid,
Now which bank account can I raid?
Has the post brought more bills today?
No, it’s a large cheque…. Hooray!
That will help the cashflow.
The church money will steadily grow,
All in a Treasurer’s month.
In which column does this item fall?
I must remember that telephone call.
It’s not as easy as it looks
To balance all the church’s books
More finance meetings to attend.
The auditors happiness is my end.
All in a treasurer’s year.
Now on whom can I put the blame
For putting forward my name?
But I’ve always liked figures you see
So I’m quite happy to be
The Church Treasurer.
Linda Wainwright.
A Sonnet of Snowdrops
From earth frostbound in grip of winter’s power
Arise the Snowdrops, crystal white and pure;
Sweet heralds on the spring, they stand demure.
In bitter biting winds yet comes this dower
Of modesty and grace, this dainty flower.
So delicate of form yet strong and sure
That in the harshest days they can endure;
Proof that Spring will come with April sun and shower.
Thus loving human hearts, as strong and true
Withstand the buffetings and storms of life
And ever shed, on all around, a Joy
That in the darkest times will guide them through.
Such kindly souls spread peace among the strife
For theirs a faith that nothing can destroy.
Dorothea Keable
My Lovely Granddaughter
Charlotte Louise Flew
There’s no-
Quite like you.
Your eyes are so sparkly
Your smile is so sweet
A proper Madam
Right down to your feet.
I love you to pieces
You’re a dream come true;
My lovely granddaughter
Charlotte Louise Flew.
Barbara Clark