Inspired Poetry from Truro Baptist Church members

New Kingdom Vision.

Up there the lofty Heavens lit,
past skies so high above us.
In astral realms our Saviour sits,
Enthroned there so to love us.

By pearly gates, Holy saints wait,
With tablets scribing strictures.
Updating saintly anecdotes;
New memoires since the scriptures.

Its choirs chant in purest voice
The psalms sung soft and low.
Angels pleased by mortal’s choice
Of hymns from earth below.

O’er hills that glow, children in tow,
Our Father God is talking.
And hearts and hopes spring up in love
Like flowers follow His walking.

So far away this vision seems
From worldly cares and fears.
So outside of our space and time
That we might take light-years.

But it is we, on our journey
Who are far away from You!
For You of course are with us Lord
In everything we do!

You gave to each and all of us
A spark of Your own light!
It lies inside us deep within
Our souls just out of sight.

The glory of this new Kingdom
Is closer than we know.
We carry it in minds and lives
And hearts where e’er we go

David VanHeron.

I’m Just a Squire to my Lord.

I’m just a squire of the Lord,
my service He’s accepted.
I lead His donkey, clean the tack;
stable duties ne’er neglected.

I’m just a valet of the Lord
His commands I’ll never gainsay.
His cup, repast, habiliment
and word I do convey.

I’m just a soldier of the Lord
Pray Kingdoms fall to Him !
Not by fire or sword or siege;
Love, faith and hope will win !

I’m just a servant of the Lord
Seven lamps maintained and oiled.
From darkest poverty I came,
Now His light guides my toil !

Blessed I am to serve His house,
for in that place I share,
the presence of His company,
all are ennobled there.

Yes I’m just a servant,
only now my life’s begun.
He values my eternal soul
and loves me like a son.

David VanHeron

Hello Even Sky

Greetings pastel morning sky!
How welcome is thy light,
That warms and brightens blessed day
after long colourless night.

So soft and subtle are your hues
that gift and please the eye.
The waxy pinks and oily blues
O’er the canvas of the sky.

Hello midday Sun that climbs through
Printed baby blue.
The ripples of your thin high clouds
Reflected in the dunes.

The screen that captured summers haze
Inverted on a notion,
Then used again to show below
The mirror of the ocean.

Hello even sky that boils
With thick impasto spreads,
The tall ship clouds vie o’er skies
With dragons and Godheads.

Would that I could recreate with
Brush and knife and paint,
The glory of Gods blessed hand
That wrought the shining Saints.

David VanHeron

Good Wife.

For years and long I’ve had your hand,
touched, caressed and held it.
Yet only now a wedding band, by Gods’ grace I’ve placed upon it.

I sold my work and felled the tree,
and bought the gold with honest fees,
to make the rings for me and thee
that bond and bind for eternity.

I’ll plant for you a shady bower,
and weave within it summer flowers.
There we shall escape the showers
and I will guard your sleep for hours.

We’ll build our future on this rock
Of faith and Christ’s example.
Secure our nights with prayerful lock,
live by His provision ample.

Would that you were a lady mine
and I a champion yours.
All dragons slain, all battles won
If your loves prize is my cause.

From this day ‘till my last day,
I will love you all this life.
Then onwards and forever more
my lips shall quoth: “Good Wife!”

David VanHeron

Tell them I’ve gone fishing.

Where’s husband to this Sunday morn’ ?
They’ll query at the greet .
“Tell them I’m to river gone
And there my Lord to meet.”

But all good fellows dally here,
Gods house to congregate.
“ But mornings tide and dawn are due
To both flood in full spate.”

Church roof today is open sky,
Its’ buttresses, the trees,
And out there full in Gods plain sight
Tis His breath blows on me.

Dawn chorus echoes Angel voice.
Sweet birdsong is my choir.
To dwell in serene Christendom
Clad in its green attire.

The robins sing the David psalm,
The wren tweets at her whim.
Kingfishers don their Sunday best
And bees hum hymns to Him !

My soul is safe at waters’ edge
( if then my life is done ),
For wading deep in river clear
Are Father, Spirit, Son.

By faithfulness and steadfastness
Tis life I hope to capture.
For Saints are blessed and beatified
When passing in the Rapture.

Such Worship is a wondrous thing
Not set by vote or office.
I seek the symbol of my Faith
And nothing less will suffice !

So tell them I’ve gone fishing then,
when queried at the greet.
Tell them I’m to river gone
Tis there my Lord I meet.

David VanHeron

Salt and foam!

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
With mornings tide set sails to roam.
Buoyant hope for silver treasures;
oceans bounty for table’s pleasures.

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
Wind-born, nor’ward blown,
Neptune’s capricious dice are thrown.
Days o’er swell and nights neath the stars,
Clipped and trim we cut and far.

Foam and salt! Foam and salt!
Labour decrees; ‘call not for halt!’
Boarded, chained and roped nets,
Trailed and trawled within the wet!
But luck! Good fortunes favours given,
Fit to burst our catch is risen!

Foam and salt! Foam and salt!
The worst of fears, to haul up nought.

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
All holds full, our prize our own.
Five days plunder, add five days out,
low and laden we turned about.

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
Stout fishermen all, and headed home.
O’er leagues and long,
Course plot and planned.
O’er leagues and long,
all thoughts of land.

Foam and salt! Foam and salt!
Our youngest, Thomas, was at fault.
Ill omen was his innocent epistle,
When merry with rum he started to whistle…

Foam and salt! Foam and salt!
Fell wind, the squall and then a raging tumult!
A great storm was upon us,
Dark horses on high.
Black rollers and breakers
As tall as the sky!

Gale and storm! Gale and storm!
The vessel pitched and tossed and torn!
A mighty crack as the main-mast yielded.
A heave from Tom on the ropes he wielded.

Storm and gale! Storm and gale!
Alak and all to no avail, for Tom’d gone over with mast and sail.
With dawns first light the seas subsided,
And apart from one, our souls abided.

Oh dark the day! Oh dark the day!
We counted that lost or washed away;
Our dinghies, our crab-pots,
Our old oak ale ton,
Our dearest of treasures;
A fine Cornish son.

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
The currents were with us and helped us limp home.
(We’d been travelling south while chasing the shoal),
then two more days to reach our dry goal.

Time and tide! Time and tide!
Until at last we came aside,
Our harbour snug and safe and hidden;
So there to greet us a throng, come unbidden!

Tide and time! Tide and time!
To waiting hands we threw our lines.
With heavy hearts we told them our story of our record catch, our lost boy, lost glory.

Avast and ahoy! Avast and ahoy!
Some children were pointing
And shouting with joy!
The rope which bound poor Tom
to mast into sea,
Was the same rope that bound us
and the old ship to he!

Ahoy and avast! Ahoy and avast!
Unknowing we’d towed Tom back
Still tied to the mast!
Though frozen and ashen and sodden
and senseless, life still breathed within him, tenacious, regardless.

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
This sea-faring journey is nearly all done.
I retell this ballad the way that I saw it,
No license to embroider or flower or alter’t.
To hear Tom recount it
(with gusto and oft)
You’d think he was captain
Who tore the mast off!
To save us from rolling in highest of seas,
Yes! Big hero Tom! He saved us if you please!

Salt and foam! Salt and foam!
Tom’s still a sailor
now he’s all grown.
He preaches ‘life jackets!’
and even gives classes,
but saves all his whistling
for fine Cornish lasses!

David VanHeron

Truro Baptist Church
Chapel Hill
Truro
Cornwall
TR1 3BD

Tel: 01872 241 984