There is an emanation from the heart

which cannot be described,

but is immediately felt and puts

the stranger at his ease.

~Washington Irving

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.
It turns what we have into enough...

.........and more.

It turns denial into acceptance,
chaos to order, confusion to clarity.

It can turn a meal into a feast,

a house into a home,

a stranger into a friend.

~Melody Beattie

Don't be satisfied with stories,

how things have gone with others.

Unfold your own myth.

May my life be like a great

hospitable tree, and may

weary wanderers find in

me a rest.

~John Henry Jowett

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Remembrance Day at Holywell Cemetery

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them."
From Laurence Binyon's (Trinity College, Oxford)
poem For the Fallen,  written in September 1914

Stuart, Max, and I made sure we were standing at Ronald Poulton's wooden cross at 11am today. As we stood, the bells of the college chapels rang out all around us and there was a single gun salute from Magdalen College.

Ronald was with the Royal Berkshire Regiment and still lies in Belgium where he fell on May 5th, 1915.  His cross was brought here to Oxford, to Holywell Cemetery near where his sister lies. Every year we make sure to mark and remember his sacrifice and, even with our lone and simple flowers and poppy, it's so very moving to stand in quiet remembrance as the bells toll.


by John Gorka
"Let Them In was made into song by John Gorka from a poem found in a hospital in the Philippines during World War II. The nurse that found the poem kept it all these years until the recent war brought out all the memorabilia. Luckily, her daughter sent a copy to John"

Let them in, Peter
They are very tired
Give them couches where the angels sleep
And light those fires
Let them wake whole again
To brand new dawns
Fired by the sun not wartime's
Bloody guns
May their peace be deep
Remember where the broken bodies lie
God knows how young they were
To have to die
God knows how young they were
To have to die
So give them things they like
Let them make some noise
Give dance hall bands not golden harps
To these our boys
And let them love, Peter
For they've had no time
They should have trees and bird songs
And hills to climb
The taste of summer in a ripened pear
And girls sweet as meadow wind
With flowing hair
And tell them how they are missed
But say not to fear
It's gonna be alright
With us down here
Let them in, Peter
Let them in, Peter
Let them in, Peter
John Gorka, all rights reserved

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