Frances Anne Doogan

Glasgow, UK

I was born on 25th August 1953 of noble Celtic Irish blood and although I live very much in the world and am a master chef/nutritionist/biochemical student by professor, I have consecrated myself to God since childhood. And so, this love permeates all I do, think or say. Amazed at the contrast, therefore, between the beauty and peace of creation and all the insults and blame hurled at God with little or nothing by way of gratitude, I endeavored by my poetry to make reparation, as it were and so "Mary, Queen of Peace/Treasure of Truth (Minerva Press) is my poetical portfolio.

Bread of Life/ Nutrition

What did our father, who up in heaven, give us this day as our food?
He made the genetic the genes of earth's clay and saw that it was very good.
Its crystalline form, he saw at a glance, could become a fine sparkling gem
If fed nutrients, purest air and liquid to develop and grow into men (and women).

A vitamin here, a mineral there - trace elements needed for life
Fatty acids, but wait? They must be the right kind, or else we are heading for strife
For too much of one thing, too little of that, creates many problems for sure
For food is not pleasure but necessity, unless we want gems weak and poor.

And then we are heading to be turned to dross, as scientists don't want malaise
"Abort, withdraw food" is their infamous cry, "we'll extract their organs, then erase.

"We'll transplant them here and dissect them there, for we're the new masters of life

In our hands lie man's health and his progeny too, but why not - for disease it is rife?"

All because man forgot that he's made out of clay and needs nought but the etchings made by God
And the healthiest person, the one full of zest is but (s)he who remembers the clod
so what do we want for ourselves and our seed - do we want their demise or their good?
Then turn to the one who's the author of life, who sent Jesus his son as our food (in the Eucharist).

Ave Maria - Rosa Mystica

O lady they write about roses in song, in poetry, music and art
But there's one fragrant rose that they know not about
The rose who is queen of my heart
Innocent and untouched you were chosen by God
To enclose in your womb his own son
For from all Adam's daughters no other was found that could give him
pure love but this one
Though a sister and mother to many through love
No creature but him came from you
For purity it was the dress that you wore, virginity your own virtue

In these times when e'er priests have despised this great wealth
As they seek once again poisoned fruit
We will hold up your beauty for all eyes to see
Chaste love in our hearts will take root

So mother, cultivate all your virtues in us
For your children have known bitter blows
Make us blossom and grow in earth's garden for God
And for you, our sweet mystical rose.