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He did everything for me, my brother and sis

Just chatting and watching football is what I really miss

So many great things to get his kicks

Such a fun guy always taking the mick,

He built his business up from scratch

No other man could ever match

His passion for life and love for us,

The love for my mum was so so much

But the day I was told I found it tough

I’ll be gone soon pretty strong stuff,

Too much too young but that is life

I’ll miss you dad until the end of time

 Christopher Woolvett


Harvest Festival

Thank you Father for Nature,

For supplying the food we eat,

For the many wonderful fruits,

That is tasty and so sweet.


Thank you for the vegetables,

That helps the body to survive,

That nourishes our very being,

To keep us all alive.


Thank you for the conditions,

The wind, the rain and storm,

Thank you for the sunshine,

That ripens the fields of corn.


Bless all the harvest,

Those graces our table fare,

Abundance of glorious food,

A feast for all to share.

So as we celebrate Harvest Festival,

Let us think of those in need,

Send your thoughts out to the starving,

That all of them may feed.


Help us share your treasure,

To those that are starving today,

Give them strength and nourishment,

To soothe their pains away.


If through your love and understanding,

We conquer famine decay and despair,

Then Father we have learnt our lesson,

For through you we have learnt to share.


Malcolm G Bradshaw  

Hamnavoe By George Mackay Brown – Your Favourite Poem


My father passed with his penny letters
Through closes opening and shutting like legends
When barbarous with gulls
Hamnavoe’s morning broke

On the salt and tar steps. Herring boats,
Puffing red sails, the tillers
Of cold horizons, leaned
Down the gull-gaunt tide

And threw dark nets on sudden silver harvests.
A stallion at the sweet fountain
Dredged water, and touched
Fire from steel-kissed cobbles.

Hard on noon four bearded merchants
Past the pipe-spitting pier-head strolled,
Holy with greed, chanting
Their slow grave jargon.

A tinker keen like a tartan gull
At cuithe-hung doors. A crofter lass
Trudged through the lavish dung
In a dream of corn-stalks and milk.

In the Arctic Whaler three blue elbows fell,
Regular as waves, from beards spumy with porter,
Till the amber day ebbed out
To its black dregs.

The boats drove furrows homeward, like ploughmen
In blizzards of gulls. Gaelic fisher-girls
Flashed knife and dirge
Over drifts of herring.

And boys with penny wands lured gleams
From tangled veins of the flood. Houses went blind
Up one steep close, for a
Grief by the shrouded nets.

The kirk, in a gale of psalms, went heaving through
A tumult of roofs, freighted for heaven. And lovers
Unblessed by steeples lay under
The buttered bannock of the moon.

He quenched his lantern, leaving the last door.
Because of his gay poverty that kept
my seapink innocence
From the worm and black wind;

And because, under equality’s sun,
All things wear now to a common soiling,
In the fire of images
Gladly I put my hand
To save that day for him.

Your favourite poem sent in by you.What’s yours?

Father open our eyes


Father open our Eyes

To the failures of mankind,

Seek out all that is evil,

  Correct all that which we find.

Protect all the innocent ones,

The vulnerable and the weak,

Surround them with your love and light,

In your arms forever keep.

Father gives comfort to the bereaved,

Ease their sorrow and pain,

Fill their hearts with knowledge,

That we all shall meet again.

Father heals all those that suffer,

Give energy to all that are weak

Diminish their pain and torment,

Give encouragement to all that are meek.

Father we send our thoughts to the world,

For everlasting peace,

Open the eyes of those that are blinded,

For war and destruction to cease.

Finally Father we ask you humbly,

For all those that have been parted,

You fill them with your love and light,

To mend the broken-hearted,

  Malcolm G Bradshaw.

Prayer for the world



Dear Father we come before you,

With deep concern in our hearts,

For all those that are suffering,

Here, and in far off parts.


We think of those who are afraid,

Those who are lost and alone,

Those who are caught up in conflict,

Who through war have no home?


We think of the children, Father,

Those that are sick and dying,

The emptiness in all their faces,

Bewildered, bemused and crying.


Father we ask you,

To instil into the minds of men,

To irradiate war and destruction,

And never to fight again.


Let us all pray for peace,

Together we will command,

A world of perfect harmony,

To spread throughout our land.


Malcolm G Bradshaw
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