Joan Lewington

Brixham, Devon, UK

I was born in Yorkshire. I am now the mother of a wonderful married daughter, Joan Diane, and grandmother to Rebecca. I was widowed and then married Stanley R. Lewington who enjoys painting country and religious scenes. I belong to the Salvation Army (Local Officer) and The International Society of Poets. I also do voluntary work as a League of Mercy Secretary and run a club for Over Sixties. I am the religious correspondent (Thought for the Week etc.) for two newspapers. Author of two books of poetry. I enjoy writing about nature which I love.

The Forest

Gently the river flows
Beside the dark forest.
In season when the salmon swim
Upstream to spawn.
The forest, a guardian
Stately, majestic
Is caressed by the moonlight
And kissed by the dawn.

Silent a church stands
By the dark forest.
Silent the ruins of
A great Hall..
But dawn stirs a chorus
Near the dark forest
Blackbird and thrush
With a cuckoo's loud call.

Beauty and peace dwell
Within the dark forest
When old country lanes
Are with primroses lined..
Where the daffodils blaze in
Green water meadows
The charm of Old England
Is in colour defined.

Harvest Glory

A HAPPY shout
Ends the strenuous day;
Shadows lengthen as
The monster machine
Goes on its way.
Golden grain is safe and sure..
The barn is full of
Good sweet hay.
Butterflies feasting off
Fallen apples spread
Their dainty wings;
The lonely ragged scarecrow
Arms dangling fixes his gaze
On the crimson sky.

Spring with posies,
Summer with roses
Are times of beauty
But golden wheat and maize
From fields amid sunburnt hills
Call us to Thanksgiving
For the bountiful earth.
In a world of turmoil,
God's loving kindness
In so many ways gives to each heart
A SONG OF PRAISE