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    Ships in the Night
    Ships in the Night
    Ships in the Night
    Ebook106 pages34 minutes

    Ships in the Night

    By Lorna Forrester

    ()

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    About this ebook

    This is a wide selection of poems from my teens up to Easter '23. Quite a few are merely entertainment...fun-doggerel, included because they give glimpses into aspects of my life. There is a thread concerning problematic identities and the complexity of relationships. There are unanswered questions and a pervasive ambience of mystery. Many poems reflect my nuanced Socialism and passion for social justice... And there is a spiritual journey towards Progressive Christianity.

    Lorna Forrester is passionate about the themes of her first novel and sees it as a contribution to on-going dialogue and as support for individuals who are struggling with the two main issues of LGBT Christians and over the interpretation of the Bible generally. Influenced by the American ex-pastor, writer, blogger, international speaker and leader of the emerging church, Brian McLaren and by Oasis church and charity here in the UK, Lorna is hoping to encourage ex-evangelicals and to raise the profile of Progressive Christianity in these times of upheaval. Somewhat of a recluse, Lorna Forrester is totally deaf and intends only to engage on-line, where she is concerned with encouraging irenic conversation. A grandmother of three girls, she is indebted to the elder two for their lively encouragement and pertinent suggestions, from start to finish.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLorna Forrester
    Release dateJun 9, 2023
    ISBN9781916226449
    Ships in the Night

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      Book preview

      Ships in the Night - Lorna Forrester

      TENUOUS CONNECTIONS

      Like synapses, we make connections

      Each one trembling with potential,

      Pregnant, symbols of hope.

      Such redundancy......

      Vibrant connections impact lives,

      Make history - change things.

      Tenuous connections tempt with possibility,

      Frustrate with unlived life;

      Taunt with those untravelled paths,

      Abandoned choices, forever teasing

      with impossible,

      Unrealisable dreams -

      Once so attainable and sweet.

      AWAKENINGS

      Into the long silence,

      Your voice

      Calling

      And my response,

      Straining to catch the nuanced word,

      Awakens.

      Word-pictures, dreams, desires

      Emerge.

      Unforced resurrection -

      And I embrace them freely

      With joy.

      In the space between,

      The Spirit hovers,

      Gently

      Touching chords, long unplayed.

      And the space between

      Becomes Holy Ground.

      LOVE FOR ITS OWN SAKE

      These are the little glimpses of beauty,

      Though never planned to blossom forth and grow.

      Let us not despise them -

      These have their value too,

      And we, who perceive their truth

      Are richly blessed.

      For lovely little indications

      Of gentle thoughts and sympathy -

      Surely are only intimations

      Of a greater Love than you or me.

      The gifts that are given, are offered freely,

      Out of abundance to each a part.

      For every day, come indications

      That this giver of Love has a generous heart.

      And if, perchance, the gift seems fraught

      with sadness,

      When the tenderness of love brings pain -

      There never was an easy way to gladness

      And perfect love, on earth, we’ll ne’er attain.

      Spring 1965

      SOLUTION

      Let’s beware of wasting hours in futile longing,

      When before us lies so much to do and say.

      In a sense, I think we really are belonging

      To one another, in a different way.

      There is no shame in giving pleasure

      By kindly words and feelings shared

      Our world wants Love, not given by measure -

      Affection and spontaneous joy should not be spared

      And kindred spirits need communication -

      Treat friendship as the precious gift it is

      Give reign to natural spontaneity -

      Live daily in the joy of being free.

      INTERDEPENDENCY

      Did the powerful waves erode the rocks to

      make this little bay?

      Or did the land itself, entrap the sea?

      Listen to the forest music! Trees

      Without the wind are silent

      And wind without resistance

      Makes no sound.

      The splendid sun, himself,

      Cannot, unaided, form one little rainbow.

      And those best-loved, enchanted hours

      Of dawn and twilight

      Could never be.

      Without the tender, lingering, sensuous play -

      The joyful, free embrace of night and day.

      Subject and object die

      And phoenix-like.

      Our liberated, one consciousness arises.

      Together we embrace the world -

      Accepting and accepted.

      We are at once most creative

      And most at peace.

      3rd & 4th April ‘68

      THE SKYLARKS OF BALLYCASTLE

      O those Ballycastle skylarks of 1949,

      The companions of my solitary play.

      All that passion seemed so far away,

      I could not ever make it mine.

      Now once again, I hear that song,

      As it echoes in my

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