St John's Vicarage, Bransholme, Hull, Summer 2008
Innocence
House of new beginnings
Of hoped for harmony
Of connection and grace.
House of the flying tardis
Of new worlds waiting to be found
Of new colours waiting to dazzle.
House of the land and soil
Of digging and planting
Of unhindered growth.
House of freedom
Of reckless joy
Of cover and refuge.
House of promise
Of warmth and rest
Of provision and peace.
House of riches
Of feasts and frivolity
Of parties and play.
House poised to kiss sleeping beauty.
House ready for redemption.
Experience
House of the broken windows
Of smashed ceilings and break-ins
Of possessions stolen and strewn.
House of tears and troubles
Of broadband battles
Of clashing generations.
House of the flowing whisky
Of late night witterings
And telescope twittering.
House of the big brothers
Of thwacked thighs and pointing fingers
Of mobile phone fascination
And rubbish bin preoccupation
Of grumpy kindness
And soaring silliness.
House of the sisterhood
Of singing and sighing
Of laughing and crying
Of hair and fashioning
Of washing liquid rationing.
House of the gravely garden
Of the hidden tennis court
Pushing up the daisies.
House of the packed kitchen
Of the peopled lounge
Of stories, feasting and fun.
House of the back-stage
Of unseen work and wisdom
Of making and marking
Of waiting and writing.
House with a heart-beat.
House coming to life.
Imagination
House of wonders
House of healing
House that hosts the angels.
House of hopes
House of dreams
House that holds the nations.
House of beauty
House of light
House that shines and shocks.
House of love
House of truth
House that won’t be stopped.
House of joy
House of peace
House of celebrations.
House of faith
House of fight
House of resurrections.
House of love
House of hope
House of heaven-come-down.