Hitherto Hath the Lord Brought Us

Lord on this the final day

Of two thousand, seventeen

We give you thanks,

Three hundred sixty-five days

Are about to culminate

And Lord to be quite frank,

You have preserved us.

There have been ups and downs

We’ve encountered pleasure and pain

We have been wise and otherwise

But thought it all

There have been your blessings

Disguised and undisguised,

Thank you Jesus

Today Lord we salute you

We extol you

And we give you loads of praise,

In our weakness was your strength

In our depression there was hope

We you have raised,

In you we trust.

As we reflect on your goodness

And your benevolence

May we trust you more,

As we anticipate the ensuing year

And whatever there is

May we be daily sure

That you are with us.

Praise and honour and glory

Be unto your holy name

Forever and ever and ever

And righteousness, love and peace

Be always our hallmark

And our overarching banner

However the world may fuss.

Amen and Amen and Amen

Stewart Russell © December 2017

The Road to Pot Holes

Today I will write about pots

Write about what?

Yes you heard me correctly

I will do so directly and indirectly.

English is so very amusing

And at times it is so confusing

And for a fact I know you know

About the pot of gold by the rainbow.

 

 

Do you see what I mean?

Yes, pot number 1 on the scene

The pot of gold nobody has found

After looking up and down and all around.

Of course you can pot down the chicken

For pot number 2 to be finger licking,

By now you must be salivating

 So I just felt that fact needed stating.

Pot number 3 is the saucepan

Like a one-pot of which I am a fan

Everything is mixed up into one

Of that I can tell you I am very fond.

Pot number 4 is the buck-pot

I am not surprised you asked me what,

I am not even sure of the spelling

But the duck is ready; someone is yelling!

Cohobblopot is like a carnival

It is one of several bajan festivals

Lest I forget that is pot number five

Soon the premiere pot will arrive.

The plant pot is very common

It’s the pot before pot number 7

And just in case you’re in a fix

This makes the plant pot number 6.

 

 

Pot number 7 is a starved out puppy

One that should be put out of its misery,

Commonly known as a pot-starver

This cur is a regular spot for flies to harbour.

  

This brings us to pot number 8

I’ll soon be through; it’s getting late,

Potbelly might just be a matter of taste

That shows up around a person’s waist.

Pot number 9 is closer to home

That and pot number 10 together roam

Potluck is of the habitual kind

Like having misfortune all of the time.

Last but surely not least is pot number 10

Potluck and potholes must be a blend

Potholes is really a troubling matter

As along on our roads you’ll find them scatter.

Some are deep and some are shallow

When you avoid one a next one will follow

The effect on the car is a continuous rattle

Compliments of course: the pothole battle.

It’s true our roads are in a wretched state

But on the potholes do not concentrate,

Though they are many do not despair

But of our network of roads do be aware.

Sounds familiar? I hope it does

When this was pointed out it caused a buzz,

While I appreciate our many roads

Potholes are causing us a financial load.

Shocks, bottom arms and so much more

These potholes are becoming a part of folklore

In fact I can recall a calypso or two

That focused on potholes; I am sure you do,

Four shocks are what I have to get

The results of some pothole foes I met

Day in and day out this is a fret

And up to now I don’t have the money yet.

And this pothole patching if I may call it that

Is not doing much good and that’s a fact,

Filled in one day next day they’re back

Especially if it rains truly this is crap.

Nine pots I have passed before this one

Eight were no trouble but they are gone,

Potluck and pothole remain in co-

And together they are causing considerable woe.

Consider if you’re travelling late one night

And a tyre blows out, O what a fright!

Particularly if you are a female and all alone

And there is no charge left on your phone.

What if the cause were a huge pothole?

What if you collided with a utility pole?

What if something more terrible happens

Far more serious than a tyre being flattened?

Potholes can throw up many varied scenarios

Depending on time and place and event

So it is all right to praise our road networks

But these potholes I absolutely resent.

I contend $400 or more as an annual road tax

Should rid us of these pothole traps

And the fact that we are a tourist attraction

We should pay potholes more attention.

Some pots are good; some pots are bad

Potbelly’s a problem and pot starver is sad

But potholes are potluck and that’s a fact

I pray the authorities will soon deal with that.

Stewart Russell © December 2

Our Mother

In the midst of pain and discomfort

God shows Himself to be real

A tower of strength to the feeble

As in the case of our mother who is frail

She is even more dependent on Him

As there’s not much we can do for her

“Jesus suffered much for us,” she says

And with her we must concur

On one occasion while the pain persisted

I heard her in essence say

Jesus’ pain was far more

Compared to what she suffers each day

It’s sometimes difficult to comprehend

While watching her in her wheel chair

This woman that gave birth to seven children

Now almost totally dependent for her care

Such are the vicissitudes of life, I guess

That will attend us should we live as long

As she has for more than ninety years

Though now she is not nearly as strong

So many of you have enquired after her

And your prayers have been dear to us

But the greatest consolation we have of all

Is her strong faith in her Saviour, Jesus

Thus in her weakness she is made strong

And when no one is around he’s there

And during the still watches of the night

Is when he still demonstrates he cares

For sure on him she continually calls

And there’s not an occasion he does not reply

No busy tone or temporary disconnection

His assurance is always to supply

This is not to make light of your calls

Nor indeed your kind and loving expressions

So please do continue to pour them on

Seeing you are the means of God’s ministrations

  

You are His love, His hands His help

And we are the beneficiaries at this time

Our mother is your mother; I hope you know

Since Eve was the mother of all human kind

Thanks to all for your prayers and thoughts

And assuring us we’re not in this alone

And if you did not call do not be distraught

Ours is a greater connection than a phone

For just the thought you’ve spared at this time

To even think about Mum Russell

Means more to us than you’ll ever know

And such helps us through our time of trial.

Stewart Russell © December 2017

Be Wise Not Otherwise

Well the year is winding down

Be it with a smile or frown,

Some have remained with us

The others are not around.

These have passed to the beyond

However is that fact

But for sure we are aware

They have left the beaten track.

Trodden by each and every soul

Be that journey short or long

And by the end of it be assure

You’d have written your life’s song.

What we have written is written

And that we cannot erase

And those no longer among us

Are awaiting the next phase.

Exactly how that phase will be

We are not completely sure,

The Bible does give us a few hints

But beyond that we know no more.

The wise among us that remain

Have taken God at His word,

We have given our lives to Jesus

The otherwise consider this absurd.

As this year into eternity fades

Becoming the past as those before

I would like to take this opportunity

To appeal to you once more.

Let not the New Year find you

Walking the way of the otherwise,

That is the path of wretchedness

That will lead to your eternal demise.

However foolish it might appear

Give Jesus the rest of your years,

Don’t wait for the year to begin

Commit to Christ right now right here.

Dear unsaved but believing friend

If this poem has arrested you thoughts

It’s a good sign that you have found

That after which you have sought.

For nothing in this life will bring you

The satisfaction that you seek,

Perhaps this is your defining moment

When you and the Saviour meet.

However absurd it may seem

Identify yourself with the wise,

The cross is to the otherwise nonsense

Therein is the devil’s disguise.

As this year’s moments tick away

If conviction on you weighs

This is the opportune time to say

Lord, come into my heart today.

Be wise I dare say, not otherwise

You have no time put down,

Do not put it off for another year

Like the others you might not be around.

Stewart Russell © December 2017