Poetry: Milton – On Shakespeare

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,The labor of an age in pilèd stones,Or that his hallowed relics should be hidUnder a star-ypointing pyramid?Dear son of Memory, great heir of fame,What need’st thou such weak witness of thy name?Thou in our wonder and astonishmentHast built thyself a live-long monument.For whilst to th’ shame of …

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On Banned and Challenged Books

Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere. G. K. Chesterton

One year of Where the Moss Grows Old

To be fair, I'm celebrating this first anniversary a little bit late. But Holy Week took precedence! But even without a new baby and one of the highlights of the Church Year, this date sort of snuck up on me. I had been thinking about my book as I've been writing poetry over the last …

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Poetry: Keble – Good Friday

"Wash me, and dry these bitter tears,       O let my heart no further roam,    ’Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears.       Long since—O call Thy wanderer home; To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side, Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide."

Children’s Church Part 5 – A Closing Story

Written in January 2021 In the hours after my daughter’s birth, I saw a little blessing from God. Not only did I get to hold my daughter, but I was given a little comfort knowing that my daughter knew me and trusted me. She was being held by someone in the room and started crying. …

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