Kentish Barns New Years Day
This winter scene the misted view
The hedgerow bramble filled
Reveals a distant view of yesterday.
These Kentish barns shrouded
The fog and mist create magic
Transform the view into mystery
That resonates with all that is to come
For this year is new, the pages clean
Who knows what lies ahead?
What mystery waits to be revealed?
For now the day is fog bound
As is the future, not yet begun.
poem by James Tipp
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The Master Painter
The master painter unfolds his palette
Strokes generously with his brush,
The sky explodes with images of delight,
An inspiration, for the mind, and heart.
Turner would be envious of such a canvas.
But all too soon the inspiration fades
The light extinguishes and darkness comes
For just moments you painted with your mind
Flew with the eagles into the soaring beauty
Escaped the everyday for the world of imagination
poem by James Tipp
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Happiness Is?
Happiness is?
A cigar called Hamlet?
The taste of Martini?
Fairy soft hands?
Happiness is?
Holidays in the sun?
Ski-ing in the snow?
An awayday?
Happiness is?
A talk on the phone?
A Slumberland bed?
Being a Flora man?
Happiness is
Giving to others
Seeing you smile
Directing the way
[...] Read more
poem by James Tipp
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A Winters Walk
This winters day defies the season
The sun kissed lanes resonate with atmosphere
Kent in the sun a delight to mind and eye.
Yet few invade the quiet wayside lanes
Isolation is a joy, a cleansing from people
From the noise and clamour of this world
Where value is found in man made things
Bricks and mortar, stokes and shares.
Here all is free, the sun, the scene, the air.
Such peace invades the tissues of the mind
Creating inner cleansing, true value, self worth.
poem by James Tipp
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Easter Morning In the Twenty First Century
I have stood in total darkness
Without the redeeming glimmer of light
I have waited in the darkness for sight to come
The waiting was intolerable long and unfulfilled
I have reached out to those near to me
Unable to identify even my own hand in the darkness
But when the light came all was revealed the fear dispersed
I saw others as they were and rejoiced to see myself.
This is the light of Easter joy the light of hope
This light forever shines on into eternity
The darkness cannot overcome it.
poem by James Tipp
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Life Is Fog Bound
Life is a mystery, a fog shrouded puzzle
With images and characters
All fuzzy round the edges.
We are uncomfortable with mystery
It denies our certainties our black and whites.
Our logic fails to work, is inconsequential.
Our faith journey is only clear when looking back
The now and the future remain fog bound.
For those who seek a certain path
Crystal clear and straight and narrow
Will find their way encumbered, misted over
In the reality of our being pilgrims led by him
Who is the way, the light in a puzzling world
poem by James Tipp
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Shekinah Light
The shekinah light drove Moses into the cleft
Felled Paul on the way to Damascus
Blinds all who look upon God’s unveiled face.
The light must be diffused to bring life
Light cast shadows from creations store
Beneath the shadows, life teams multicoloured.
Only the shadows give meaning and hope
So the light came, human in form
Seeable, recognisable, man shaped
Yes the light in him gave shape to everything
He is the prism by which love is known
Creation is ordered, humanity has hope.
The shekinah light of glory can be looked at
Bring new life, new hope, out of the shadows
poem by James Tipp
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Southerndown South Wales No3
History Writ Large
Like layered cake the tide washes
The crumbled mix of history
Laid down in times that ceased so long ago
Yet stand so resolute for all to see.
Peering through the lens of time
We scan the distant vista with impunity
The cliffs that tower over all the bays
Along this ragged coastline etched in time
We feel the hand of God writ large
Yet most who pass this way see nothing
Nothing but the weathered view
Transient and ephemeral, short lived
But here history was made and carved
In the mind of God and in eternity
Southerndown South Wales
November 2004
No 3 in the Southerndown Trilogy
poem by James Tipp
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Rochester Cathedral 2005
Pass by this ancient door and pause
Look upon it very history etched in stone
Wonder at its age and all who stood,
As you are standing now, looking.
The good and great of history
Have passed its portals just like you
Kings and Queens of every age
Have worshiped here, the Christ King.
Sit, be still, as voices young and old
Raise in perfect sound, the alleluia’s
To echo round the vaulted heights.
Kneel and pray as others have
So many times before through history
Evidence of the living God worshiped still.
Here Justus placed his knee in prayer
When all was daub and wattle
The imprint of history remains however
A time line of experience, and calling.
Today its mission written large in stone
To worship the alpha and omega
[...] Read more
poem by James Tipp
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Remembrance Sunday 2001
That war word, has been given meaning yet again,
As we meet in the shadow of the twin towers
Seeking to remember those who died
In what seems so long ago, freedom remains illusive.
Freedom from fear, freedom to speak, freedom to worship.
So on this day, we say our thanks, with gratitude
To the names etched here long ago.
Remember with pride the sacrifice they made for us
Remember to the young who fight today
To keep that flame of freedom lit
Throughout our world, for all people
Remember to that single sacrifice
On a hill outside Jerusalem,
The one who called the world to love
Whose words inspire today’s, humanity
To seek that which is the ultimate power
To love your neighbour as yourself
The greatest challenge of all.
To become powerless, in a world
That seeks for power by domination
poem by James Tipp
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