Roses are red, violets are blue,

But do we ever stop to smell them?

Do we ever stop to just tell them we admire where they’re at?

Standing tall as God made them, in the garden,

Those lilies in the field, how they grow just like that,

Without work or making their own clothing,

I do beg their pardon.

As I run around, head down,

Just trying to finish the race,

I forget that on top, there’s a crown,

With eyes fixed, looking up,

See the out working of His grace.



Think about it.


He knows all our needs.

Seek first the kingdom of God above all else and live righteously.

How easy it is to not grasp what it means,

That rather than letting worries dominate our thoughts,

It’s time to smell the roses;

We’ve been freed.

Selah. “Wherever you are; be ALL there.”

So instead of longing for what we’ve not yet got,

In being present;

What we’ve got,

We share.

And in this time, what I’ve got is this poem.

This one I really want to craft,

So that the words aren’t dictated,

By an addiction to making it rhyme,

But with a hope that I can encourage this season,

To run its course,

However long happens to be His proper time.

Selah. To saviour the moment;

You find your space and take a nap.

I like that.

He said not to play with fire.

But in it, instead, learn to dance,

With you over there, and me over here,

The seasons’, the timings’, the journeys’,

Not by chance.

When three were in the fire and accompanied by a fourth,

The one whose heart’s desire was;


Between two directions;


From south to north.

Wasn’t in the fiery furnace with them,

He was standing by the door,

King Nebuchadnezzar in the waiting,

Humbled by what he saw.

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stop and stare.

I sometimes struggle when I stare at the paper,

With the pen at rest in my hand,

But when I stop right there and close my eyes,

Through Him,

I begin,

To understand.

He speaks His poetry in motion,

With His hands, He pours out lotion,

But not to protect me from the Sun,

But to His, He draws me near,

Like Shadrach, Meshach and Abendego;

In future fires, I will not fear.

Selah. I will stand.

He gave me revelation from chapter 12,

About the woman whose baby He took.

Seeing how He instructed me through that,

Shows that this season is written in His book.

So as she was taken to the wilderness,

And her baby, to God and His throne,

In the spacious and apparently dry place,

That woman was not alone.

In the wilderness the rocks poured out water, as she waited,

And she went the way the river was flowing,

She let the battle go on in heaven, and anticipated,

As she knew that she knew what her Noah was knowing.


I want us to be like Paul in Jerusalem,

Where finally, it seemed, he was getting through to them,

Finding the voice, and the platform to open his mouth and proclaim,

“Sit up, be baptised, wash your sins away, and call on His name”.

Because it was at that point he was on point with You,

Not a care in the world,

Just thinking on what was true,

What was honourable,

And just,

Pure, lovely, commendable.

Fully in trust.

Experiencing excellence,

Many things worthy of praise,

That his glass filled not with wine,

But your Holy Spirit;

He would raise.

That sat at your table, that was full of your glory,

There was a twist in the tale, a new chapter in the story,

“Quick. Leave Jerusalem immediately.

Because the people here will not accept your testimony about me.”

But as I begin to waffle on,

Stop, collaborate, listen,

I see You say.

There’s a balance to be had, so it’s balance that I ask for when I pray.

That I don’t get self-righteous and build up a Babel;

Forget to learn in my intention for the ascension to You,

And struggle to label,

Amongst the multitude of voices,

I begin to confuse,

When there’s gifts that are ready from You,

Help me not to refuse,

To believe, that I’m ready to reach out,

And receive.

Help me to hear You, and not the one who wants to deceive,

So when you say the magic word,


And two strands interweave,

Our runs align, no longer so exposed,

And we only believe.

So Selah, help me,

To know that the voice that I’ve heard,

And the face that I’ve seen,

Is Yours.

To practise on these things,

So that the God of peace,

Will stay with me,

Like when I arrived on August the 4th.

Ready for my purification ceremony,

Marked the next day by a walk in the sea.

Where there was no crowd and no rioting,

With the others on the beach, it was just You, her, and me,

On a day of small things not to be despised,

It was six days later that You took me by surprise.

I read about how Ezekial stood at the entrance of the temple,

And was led by a man of God.

He was led through water that was ankle deep,

And then, with another thousand cubits measured off,

The depth was at his knees.

Then another thousand was measured,

And the water had reached his waist,

At this point this story in Ezekial,

And this season,

Had been placed.

Because we carried on walking deeper,

Until it was deep enough to swim,

There we stopped and carried on talking,

Fully clothed, no room for sin.

As Ezekial was led back to the side of the river,

We headed back to the sands of the beach,

Where on this overcast summer’s day I began to shiver,

Six days later God begun to preach.

Because as we were taking to the Dorset waters,

I asked you about the Dead Sea;

Whether that was the one you could float in,

The randomness of the conversation,

Wasn’t so random, apparently.

When it empties in the sea,

The salty water there becomes fresh,

And swarms of living creatures live wherever the river flows,

And in talking of flowing rivers,

These stories here mesh.

Where the river flows everything will live.

So now we know what we need to do.

Not to receive but to give.

It’s in this season of Selah,

Bit by bit He is revealing,

Every month is bearing fruit,

And their leaves are medicine for healing.

You were talking about just going,

Wherever the river flows,

Wherever, however, and whoever with,

It may end up being,

Only God knows.

And in the meantime,

We’ll have fun,

Live the life the Lord intended,

Lived well that if and when,

Like Paul in Jerusalem,

We’ll be sad this season’s ended.

When I was on a drive that was quite long,

I was thinking on what maybe you did not had,

The temptation to play you down was strong,

But then in the café, the next bit was mad.

That time at Empower, when we talked about ministries,

And you explained about that Pastor evangelising to the celebrities,

And in that moment I assumed you wouldn’t be a fan,

Of helping and maybe even living amongst some poor and needy,

But then out of the blue came Palawan,

You randomly spoke of a small and humble community.

Another Proverbs 31 tick, that I hadn’t expected,

That maybe she,




So whether bagel or croissant,

English or green,

Whatever preferred in this season,

Prefer His face, to be seen.

Whether five or five hundred,

Proverbs or Psalms,

Stay sat protected,

In His garden,

In His arms.

Whether daughter or son,

Mountain or beach,

He’ll counsel and instruct us,

The way to go;

He will teach.

Whether Andy or Steu,

Gilpin or Jakes,

The Lord isn’t really being slow,

About His promise,

He makes no mistakes.

He is the waiter at our table, for both ours and others’ sakes.

Like with Nebuchadnezzar,

He wants no one to be destroyed and everyone to repent,

So look to that and see in this season of Selah,

That like us in the sea that day,


This time,

This time,

Is time,

Well spent.

Give Him worship,

Give Him praise,

We’re not lost in His story,

In time, He’ll amaze.

No cake and no ice cream,

Avoiding hot or cold,

I pray this gives clarity not confusion (if you read it),

What, in this season, I’m being told.

Whether rock or hip-hop,

However long the weeks, days and hours,

Enjoy the soundtrack that He’s playing,





As the river flows;

Smell the flowers.

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