September Already?

  

 

Can you imagine

It is September already?

Time is flying at record speed-

At least, so it seems to me.

 

Each and every dawn

Truncates the night before

And even though I am retired,

I long to sleep some more.

 

‘Tis the shortest holiday

This current vacation

Given the rapid passage of time

And school resumption.

 

September Remember

Hurricane Janet of fifty-five,

We’re still in the hurricane season,

One can still arrive.

 

So far, so good,

Three months have passed

And I pray for the three to come,

Such fortune will last.

 

 

Time is really flying

Though not for everyone,

Surely not for the challenged individual

Facing a difficult storm.

 

Of inner conflict

Bringing constant turmoil,

Time is stretching out unbearably

As that one toils.

 

Healing appears distant

As the night drags on

And the darkness is not dispelled,

Not even at dawn.

 

September has dawned

But it is lost on some,

Very unlike those enjoying life

And having fun.

 

“How time flies

When we are having fun!”

But it is certainly not for those

That are having none.

 

 

 

September already

But of delight and dread,

It’s delight for some but for others…

It’s sadness instead.

 

In whatever circumstance

Let us give God praise,

For having life there is still hope-

So, let’s not be fazed.

 

‘Tis September already

And we are still here,

Let’s give thanks to God Almighty

Who ultimately cares.

 

Stewart Russell © September 1, 2026

 

Christmas Solar Lights

 

 

A little bit saved

Is a little bit gained,

The Barbados Light & Power

Had become a strain.

 

Constantly ascending,

No coming down,

Cutting here and cutting there

But still a frown.

 

The highest month

Was December, of course,

The Christmas tree lights pulling

On the electric source.

 

This year, however,

I have been forced

To cut back on electric power

To another source.

 

 

 

Solar lights to the rescue

In Christmas 2024,

I started last year but this year

There is more.

 

They are mostly outside

In the many plants

And I spend quite a lot of time

Watching them dance.

 

The way they go off

And come on again

Makes the entire garden area

Like a lighted frame.

 

The yellows and reds

The greens and blues

And in between these colours

All different hues.

 

 

The sun is the switch

That turns them on

Since they light up beautifully

As soon as it is gone.

 

And when the sun rises

At the earliest dawn

The lights will all turn off

As it moves on.

 

A few in the patio

Still depend on BL&P

But if life be spared next year,

Less of these we’ll see.

 

Hopefully,

These lights will stand up

But I won’t cross my fingers

For that kind of luck.

 

 

Solar is where it’s at

To cut down on my bill

While still lighting up the place

To get a thrill.

 

There’s a light though,

Better than the sun

No company can produce it;

Absolutely none.

 

I introduce you now

To that wonderful light

That lit up the entire world

On Christmas night.

 

 

It was Christmas #1

When the light appeared

In the person of a little baby

In Bethlehem fair.

 

A light to the Gentile

And a light to the Jew,

A light to illumine the hearts

Of me and you.

 

A light for all people:

Every ethnicity and race,

The light, the Lord Christ Jesus:

Compliments: God’s grace.

 

Come to the light

It’s shining for thee,

I thank my heavenly Father

It has shone on me.

 

Stewart Russell © December 18, 2024

 

Desperate for A Grave

 

 

He was sitting on my grave

And I was desperate to get back in,

I had been out all night

And the dawn was coming.

 

I had not been dead long

So I had not been used to this,

I had been so intent on roaming

That I didn’t consider the risk.

 

I could go and come as I please

But must be back before dawn,

Only one single rule to keep

And I had been forewarned.

 

The night that was in question

I had returned to my recent haunts,

I had no special mission in mind;

I just went for a casual jaunt.

 

I was already missing the place

And I stayed a little too long

But on returning to my grave

Everything was going wrong.

 

I had lost my vocal chords

And I knew he could not hear me,

And since I could see him clearly

I felt he could also see.

 

Don’t forget, I was not long dead

And I was not yet used to this

So I had returned to my old district

Quite unaware of the risk.

 

We were never to be seen

When we went on our nightly roam

Hence, long before the dawn,

We were to be back home.

 

 

I sat on a grave nearby

And enquired from the resident within,

Meanwhile the dawn was quickly approaching

And I needed to get back in.

 

I asked if it had happened to him

And what did he actually do,

He said never in a hundred years

And I don’t know what to tell you.

 

Meanwhile he sat on my grave

With me trying to get back in

Smoking cigarette after cigarette

And got my grave like a bin.

 

By this time the smoke was killing me;

I could hardly breathe

Which reminds me when I broke the habit

I had been quite relieved.

 

I could see he had some problems

For he was talking to himself,

And for a man who was not yet dead

He was really in poor health.

 

By the way it had been raining

And he was soaked through to the bone,

All the more reason why he should leave

So I could get back in my home.

 

Nor even suicide could help me

Since I was already dead,

And I could not even have a headache

For in my grave I had left my head.

 

And my body for that matter

So I had no physical pain

But this mental anguish I was experiencing

I would never leave my grave again.

 

Whereupon I heard my neighbour,

“That is why it’s never happened to me.

I’ve been quite content to stay in my grave;

I am free from roaming free.

 

 

Many have sat on my grave

But they have never troubled me,

I had had enough of life out there

And there is no more for me to see.

 

“Can I share your grave with you?”

I asked rather pleadingly.

“Sure you can, my young deceased friend,

As long as you bring your body.”

 

“But my body is in my grave

And for right now I cannot get back in,

And I must confess I can’t deal with smoke

The man is on my grave smoking.

 

“You are newly dead, I have perceived.”

“But how did you know that?”

Because your body is still intact;

Isn’t that a fact?

 

It is quite obvious to me

You have not accepted your death

And that is the very reason

That you got up and left.

 

And now you are afraid

That the dawn will catch you outside,

I bet that you have even considered

Committing suicide.”

 

“But how can you know this?

I have never spoken with you

You are spot on my aged friend

Now tell me what to do.”

 

“I’ve been around a long time

And I know what not to do,

I stay in my grave

And you should have done that too.

 

As to what you should do

I haven’t a clue,

Find somebody older and wiser

And get another view.

 

 

This conversation is now ended

So, please get up off my grave,

The living can sit there upon

But of the dead I am terribly afraid.”

  

So, here I am

With the dawn approaching

And this man is sitting on my grave

And unsuspectingly smoking.

 

I would give anything

Just to change places with him

I am desperate for my grave

And I just want to get in.

 

If only I could get back in my grave

I would never leave again,

Given this anguish I am experiencing

I would rather have pain.

 

I was restless in life

Now I am restless in death,

My body lies in my grave

And I have nothing left.

 

Desperate for a grave

The living has taken mine,

Now it appears I must roam

For the rest of time.

 

Stewart Russell © August 25, 2020

 

 

It’s A New Day

 

 

Smell the freshness of a new day

‘Round about the dawn

When the sun is rising

And the night is gone.

 

Hear the chirping of the birds

They’re out of their nests

Hunting the early worm

Which we know is best.

 

See the first rays of the sun

Spread across the sky

As though reaching out

To the Creator on high.

 

Feel the warmth it brings

Soothing to the skin

And sense the hope of a new day

When before, hope was dim.

 

 

Taste the early morning brew

Of coffee or tea

And listen to the Jim Reeves’ tune

“Lord We Thank Thee”.

 

Note the senses in action

At the opening of a day,

An awareness of God’s majesty

Our mind alert to prayer.

 

A prayer of gratitude

From hearts full of praise,

And a hope it will be the best day

Of the rest of your days.

 

Smell and hear and see,

Feel and taste,

Thank God it’s a new day

And praise Him for His grace.

 

A new day unlike any other

It’s never been before,

Let’s give God the praise

And thank Him for one more.

 

 

A new day, yes, a new day

A privilege not a right,

Thank you, Heavenly Father,

For bringing us through the night.

 

Stewart Russell © March 2020

 

What Is Worship?

 

 

First time seen in the Word

At Genesis 22:5,

Go there now and read

And see how it comes alive!

 

Just two human beings:

A father and his son

Having traveled a great way,

To worship they have come.

 

“Stay here,”

He had said to the party,

No one was to stop his worship

To his God the Almighty.

 

Is worship singing?

There was no singing there,

No singing and no music

Just reverential fear.

 

The epitome of worship

It can’t get better than this,

A father, his offering and God

Just three on this list.

 

No clapping, no shouting,

No keyboard or drumming,

No clarinets or saxophones,

No guitarists strumming.

 

 

A pile of rocks and wood

Prepared for the sacrifice

Of his son, his only son, Isaac-

This could not be nice.

 

His only son?

Did he not have another?

The son he ultimately loved?

Lord, this is a bother.

 

Why not Ishmael?

Ishmael was his son also,

Isaac was the son God wanted

The best must be on show.

 

Worship is giving up

All that we hold dear,

Nothing between us and Jesus:

No fret, no gift, no care.

 

 

Holding everything loosely

As Corrie ten Boom did say,

Worship is one and Jesus

Just the two at play.

 

Personal before corporate

Abraham offered his son,

Not a single petition was made,

Absolutely none!

 

While God stayed his hand

The act was as good as done,

Obedience was the heart of worship

God’s favour he had won.

 

One could just imagine

The burden that was lifted

In this precursor of Jesus Christ

To whom all was shifted.

 

 

The Lamb identified by John

To take away our sin,

God’s Son, God’s only Son!

Yes, we must worship him.

 

“When,” somebody asked,

“Did worship become singing?”

Worship is one’s walk with Christ

Expressed in one’s daily living.

 

A life of total surrender.

A life of childlike trust,

A life holding all things loosely

With Jesus as the must.

 

Must have Jesus

Must live by his word,

Must shine for him in word and deed

Must show him to the world.

 

Worship is not singing,

It is a given over heart

Consecrated to God our Saviour

Who loved us from the start.

 

 

A slaying of self as it were,

A putting off and a putting on,

No more the long night of darkness,

Step into the light of dawn!

 

Worship is walking in the light

In the light that is Christ,

In constant obedience to him

As a living sacrifice.

 

Stewart Russell © May 6, 2024

 

A Lunar Annoyance

 

 

Doesn’t the moon look pretty?

Look how brightly it shines

The night has been lit up

Give me the moon every time.

 

Tonight I won’t use security lights

Since the moon is so bright

The sun was good today

But tonight the moon is my delight.

 

Let’s not less count the sun

From which the moon gets its light

Even now the sun is shining

As the moon lights up the night.

 

“I’m tired of all this,” says the moon,

“Why should the sun get the praise?

Where is the sun tonight?

It is me who is in the heavens raised.

 

I am sick and tired of this

Night and day it is about the sun

The sun gets all of the praise

And I get none of the fun.
 

Stop it!  Stop it, I say

Or I will definitely withdraw my light

And then tell me what you will do

During your inevitable plight.

 

 

At those times I take a break

I hear how you complain

With the constant query on your lips,

When will there be full moon again?

 

And when I shine in my brightness

You congratulate the sun,

Keep this nonsense up and soon

Of the moon’s light there’ll be none.

 

The dawn is fast approaching

And I must be on my way

I must now give way to the sun

So you have a great day!

 

Stewart Russell © May 2018