Poems from the Heart of Our Mum – the book

                                          Poems from the Heart of Our Mum

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The author Ruth Barrington (nee Lawson) had written poems most of her life but she had never had the opportunity to published them. Chrissy introduced her mother’s poems by publishing six of her mother’s favourites in Glimpses of His Glory.  After her mother’s death in 2011, Chrissy’s father expressed his desire to have more of Ruth’s poems published. Chrissy committed herself to the task of publishing her mother’s writing for her father and the rest of the family. Chrissy and her three siblings also contributed a poem or brief article dedicated to their mother.

Please note, except for Emmaus Way, only minor editing has occurred to Ruth’s Poems. These are her thoughts, her words – from her heart. Making huge changes would make these poems the editor’s poems and for this reason, Ruth’s work has not been altered.

                        Order Now: Poems from the Heart of Our Mum

Whisper in the Night

The night is dark. There is no moon. A distant night bird sings its song. Gentle breaths of wind quiver leaves against a window. Fighting cats hiss and spit, assaulting the quietness and then… abruptly ceases. Barking from some neighbour’s dog echoes away the intruding felines.

Silence returns momentarily before the faint sound of a baby’s cry lingers for just a little while. The dim of the night remains unstirred.

I close my eyes in expectation for sleep to come. Only silence.

A suppressed whisper infiltrates the peace of the surrounding blackness. My eyes spring open. Alertness returns. ‘What was that’? Again there is silence. Tied eyes begin to close but it transpires again. ‘That murmur, where’s it coming from?’

This time I lay awake picturing the room around me. Faint outlines of a chair appear as my eyes adjust to the gloom. The whisper returns.

My voice is barely audible. ‘Who’s there?’

I feel strange but I’m not afraid. It’s soothing and not at all alarming. Though faint as it is, I sense an inner stirring. I slide from my bed and feel my way to the window. As I part the curtains I gaze out to the unnatural darkness. Not even a pale glow of a street light can be seen. The world is completely dark and silent. “What is this?”

Again the whisper comes, this time from within my soul.  ‘Pray for those who do not know me for darkness will fall upon those who do not heed my call. The day will soon be here and time is running out. I need my children to plead for the lost so they will find the light. Don’t wait my child because lives are being lost to darkness every single moment. I have made you for a purpose. Through prayer you will know my will. I have given you a gift that can only be used to reveal my glory.’

The whisper fades to a hush and the world outside comes faintly into focus. I look up to the heavens where stars begin to shimmer. The sounds of the night return to my ears. Leaves rustle with the wind restirring. I turn and fall on my knees and weep for a world of lost sinners to see His light.

© Chrissy Siggee

The Wonder of His Great Creation

Freshness comes with the morning rain,

Sweet aromas stir the air,

Rock wallabies huddle under the Banksia,

Cockatoos squawk their disgust,

While sparrows splash about in puddles.

 

The Bottle-Brush droops heavy with wetness,

Streams form in the earth,

Possums scurry to find a drier sleeping place,

Goannas drink their fill,

And eagles find refuge in their lofty nests.

 

Windows transform with trickling moisture,

Dreary clouds threaten the day,

Kangaroos bound through the Aussie bush,

A snake slithers across the path—

I watch the wonder of His great creation.

 

© Chrissy Siggee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

From my book Glimpses of His Glory

New – Poetry Books Page

My Poetry Book

Glimpses of His Glory

has it’s own page located right here on Riverside Peace.

All updates and ordering details for poetry  books can be found on my

new Poetry Books page.

It’s nice of you to like this post but please take a look and like there too. 🙂

Your comments are also welcome.

Thank you.

Order your copy in time for Christmas

🦋  Glimpses of His Glory. 🦋

Glimpses-of-His-Glory-Square

I can’t imagine this universe without being able to see God’s beauty all around me. There’s nothing more beautiful than God’s creation. It’s as much a part of me as my Saviour himself. Everything he created was to His will and glory, and nothing was made by accident.

– Chrissy Siggee

Discover how God works through his creation and Scripture to show us his love. This 100 page book has been given a new look and is now available in most countries. It will make the ideal gift for just about anyone who enjoys God’s creation and words of encouragement. Why not buy two and keep a copy for yourself.

Use this link: Glimpses of His Glory

Bartholomew’s Adventure

‘Bartholomew, is that you?’

*pant* *pant*

‘Bartholomew, it’s hard enough to get six babies to have a nap after Sunday School without you coming home late. This floor shook all the way through the singing. The entire ruckus has given me a headache.’

*pant* *pant*

‘When I catch my breath, *pant*  I’ll explain.’

‘Bartholomew, were you chased by the janitor?’

‘Mildred, he’s on to us again.’

‘Well it’s no wonder. Your snooping around those Sunday School classes is going to get us into trouble one of these days.’

Bartholomew ignored his wife and continued. ‘I got right up close to the piano. It was awesome. They were singing Jesus loves me; my favorite. I managed to sneak in behind the young ones going into class. Mildred, their new Sunday School teacher, Miss Cooper, is delightful.’

‘I thought you were going to find us some Sunday lunch, not check out the girls.’

‘I did. Anyway, I was captivated by the way she presented the Noah’s Ark story—pictures of the ark, birds, animals, even Noah. Young Tommy asked if there were any rats on board and everyone laughed. Miss Cooper assured Tommy that if there are rats around now; they would’ve been on the ark. She spoke with enthusiasm about our Maker and His promises. Oh Mildred, you’d have loved it. It was a perfect morning.’

‘So why were you panting?’

‘I was coming to that. You see, Billy was about to leave the room with his Bible still on his chair.’

‘Again? His parents must have replaced his Bible a dozen times.’

‘I know, and I thought if I could get someone’s attention before they left, they’d see it and return it to him.’

‘So what did you do, scare poor Miss Cooper half to death on her first morning?’

‘No, I simply marched over to the Bible and stood on it… only I didn’t see the janitor passing the door with his broom. He saw me about the same time as Billy did. Billy stood between the janitor and me so I could get away.’ Bartholomew chuckled. ‘You should’ve seen me run, Mildred. I slipped out the door as quick as a flash with that broom coming mighty close.’

‘OK, so where’s lunch?  Maybe we can enjoy some of His gifts before the babies wake up.’

Bartholomew removed the pack from his shoulder and began to unload his findings.

‘I found a couple of potato crisps in the foyer. A gummy bear with his head removed in the cry room and a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the Sunday School Hall. All while they were busy singing themselves silly.’ He chucked again.

‘Oh, this is great, Bartholomew. We won’t go to bed hungry tonight.’

‘I’LL FIND YOU, RAT!’ A voice bellowed through the walls.

Mildred began to shiver. ‘Bartholomew…’

‘Mildred, take the babies through the side door to the end of the stage. Take the underground route to Uncle Moses… and don’t stop until you get there.’

‘Bartholomew, don’t leave us. Where are you going?’

‘It’s all right. I’ll distract him and meet you at Uncle Moses’s later. I’ll be fine. GO!’

‘WHERE ARE YOU, RAT?’

Bartholomew scurried back through the hole and across the stage. His feet skidded beneath him on the varnished boards, causing him to slide sideways and crashing into a pile of electrical cables. He scanned the stage and the hall just as one of the cables hit the floor below.

‘I HAVE YOU NOW.’

As fast as his little legs could carry him, Bartholomew scampered into Miss Cooper’s classroom, raced past Noah and the ark and up the drapes on the other side of the room.

There he waited.

 

It was dark when Bartholomew reached Uncle Moses’ place, tired and hungry. He listened, but there was no sound. He tapped lightly before entering.

‘Bartholomew, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. The babies wore out poor Uncle Moses. They’re all curled up with him on his bed.’

‘I’m fine. I told you I’d be fine. I know that place blindfolded. We can return in a few weeks once the exterminators have gone and the air is clear again.’

‘In the meantime, Bartholomew, you can help me with the babies. When we return home, I want you to take them to Sunday School, but no more adventures.’

‘All right, Mildred, no more adventures for me.’

© Chrissy Siggee

Author’s note: No rat or any human being was harmed during the writing of this story.