Friday, 23 December 2011

The Pilgrim

             Trevor Lawrence Jenner

           29 September 1947 – 15 January 1993

I found you today to find you are gone.
Who is it decides when it’s time to move on?
Your lonely farewell by me was unheard
Down this two way terrain – never a word.
But today the words reached over oceans and years  
         Now I offer to you my absentee tears
         As different directions tore us apart
         Your generous spirit still sang in my heart
         The smile I missed then I miss now even more
           Like the music you made – all gone before . . . .
           Down that lonesome road back home. 
            ‘Chapter 33’  -   Para 2 -  Brother to Brother.’

He handles life’s rejections with dignity and grace
As he compromises daily with the years
Accepting that his destiny is ever off the pace
He’s a constant source of sadness to his peers
Yet his past defies his future as he lets it slip away
Behind the dignified expression of a clown
Being grateful for the challenge to decide with each new day
If the going up is worth the coming down.
With apologies and gratitude to Kris Kristofferson

Thursday, 22 December 2011

Mountain Grasses

(Lotus eaters theme)
The strong mountain grasses resemble my love for you
They hide in the passes  resembling my love for you.
Daily their abundance grow
Sadly there is none that knows
Daily their abundance grows
Sadly there is none that knows

As love lies dying others will die for love
I love without trying – dying for mutual love.
Daily its abundance grows
Sadly there is none that knows
Daily its abundance grows
Sadly there is none that knows

Never is  forever bringing lonelier tomorrows
If we were together would you recognise my heart?

(C) copyright Roy Jenner June 1976 Auckland NZ
I consider my cat
And where she is sat
A rumble of purr
Midst a jumble of fur
A comfortable heap

                     On the fringes of sleep

Her furry frame curled
At peace with the world.
What is there to see
When my cat surveys me
Through lashes now closing?
Content to be dozing
In my favorite chair
She knows I’ll be there
Approaching the end
Cat, wife, or friend.
RAJ (  )  January 2003
 Blankets Of Gold

I can  feel your spirit  reaching out to  me.
I can  feel its closeness, but  what is it that I see?
I see   myself  trying, trying  hard to live
Asking all of others, others who have  little left to give.

What can I give to show you that I care?
Surely  there is  something, something we can share?

My empty  life is offering its all

To  hands that are reaching  and  damaged by the fall

I can offer wisdom
I can offer gold
Each can be a blanket
To keep you from the cold

You can take my wisdom?
You can spend  my gold?
Let us share the blankets
To  keep us from the cold.

We each have trod the lonely path
And each of us has found the road too rough
I can bare for us to share if you believe that sharing  is enough
           Mistakes we leave behind us
           Bitter blows for which  we must atone
Shall we stride the path together or struggle down that lonely road  alone?

I can offer wisdom
I can offer gold
Each can be a blanket
To keep you from the cold

You can take my wisdom?
You can spend  my gold?
Let us share the blankets
To  keep us from the cold.

Together  we are strong
Together,  we belong

           © Copyright    www.   December 2003

Monday, 19 December 2011

My Homeland of New Zealand

***(Hook and intro.)
New Zealand – I hear you.
Soon I’ll be near you.
Breathing a clear view
Of my memories in my Homeland of New Zealand

Since my early days I’ve travelled far
And wandered through many lands.
It’s natural I think for one to roam,
But I’ve yearnings now for sparkling seas
And blazing golden sands.
My homeland of New Zealand calls me home

New Zealand – I hear you.
Soon I’ll be near you.
Breathing a clear view
Of my memories in my Homeland of New Zealand

Though time has passed  impressions last
Of a thousand shades of green,
Rich apple trees boughs laden to the loam.
Of grazing herds and milling sheep
And churning mountain streams.
Yes, my homeland of New Zealand calls me home.

There are highways now through gorges
That once were hard to pass
And the diesel has replaced the ploughman’s roan.
But the winds of change can’t rearrange
Its heritage and past.
How my homeland of New Zealand calls me home.

It’s often said that Young Nick’s Head
Is the first land that he saw
As Cook sailed in toward the Long White Cloud
And it’s still there for all to share
For now and ever more
My Homeland of New Zealand makes me proud.

© Copyright Roy Jenner Auckland New Zealand September 1976 

Friday, 9 December 2011

    The Fields Of Kent

Let me wander wild and free
Where the white cliffs meet the sea
Where the days of my youth were spent
Where I’m most content
Midst  the fields of Kent
Let it be
Let it be that I shall find
All I left behind
Let it be

Can it be that I’ll  return 
To the land for which I yearn?
To the place where my dreams were made
In the cooling shade 
Of a woodland  glade
Can it be?
Can it be that I can find
All I left behind
Can it be?

Is there someone waiting there
Who can end my calm despair?
Walk with me in the cooling shade
Through a blue bell glade
As the evenings fade
Is she there?
Could it be she’s waiting still
On that blue bell hill
         Could it be?

         Yesterday’s dreams

Made to come true

         Yesterday’s dreams

Blue bells and you.
Yesterday’s dreams
Yesterday’s dreams
         Yesterday’s dreams.

                       Christmas Upside Down

When I look back on Christmas and when I was young
I remember with joy how the holly was hung
High in the hallways, on mantle and sill
To honour the season of peace and good will.
The greenest of prickles  with splashes of red
Midst garlands of  mistletoe high over head
Together with tinsel and bright, coloured lights
Flickering candles and other delights
All tenderly placed at this time of the year
As joyful reminders that Christmas is here.

I still feel the bite of the wind on my nose
As I fed robin redbreast  on chill winter snows
Whilst beckoning me through the night’s early rays
The village shops’ colourful window displays.
The butcher hand plucked our plump Christmas bird
And always had time for that joke he had heard
From the milkman, the postman, the man in the drapers
Or the freckled young lad who delivered the papers.
The voices of children still carry clear
With a songful reminder that Christmas is here.

As I grow older each Christmas I find
The pleasures of Christmas-past strong in my mind.
A man made of snow appeared on our lawn
Just at the time our sweet Jesus was born.
All winter he stayed and his eyes made from coke
Stared through our window, but he never once spoke,
But his eyes seemed to say ‘this is my Christmas too.
Would you folk really mind if I share it with you?”
And as Christmas means sharing we had nothing to fear.
A friendly reminder that Jesus is here.

Every year Christmas it comes and it goes,
But it’s no longer seasoned with crisp, winter snows.
Living  ‘down-under’  -  though just as much fun
Our memories are made in the warmth of the sun.
A day on the beach with the family seems strange
To one who remembers the old kitchen range
That produced a fine turkey, so hot, crisp and brown
With succulent vegetables dotted around.
The crackers, the paper hats, streamers and cheer
Are constant reminders that Christmas is here.

How special December as memory lingers
With barbecue steak sauce stuck to my fingers.
Sausages, hot-dogs and lamb on the coals,
Kumara, pumpkin and hot sausage rolls.
Long summer evenings with snacks on the beach
Place holly and mistletoe far out of reach,
But the giving, the taking, the kindness, the mirth,
The spirit of Christmas engulfs the whole earth.
Then as we relax with our loved ones, so dear
We need no reminders that Christmas is here.

(C) Copyright Auckland NZ   November 1996  ROY JENNER

Thursday, 8 December 2011

Johnny Cash Tribute


             The Man In Black

 From the flat black delta where the water’s always ready to rise

Came a man on a mission with a vision and a fight in his eyes

He’d worked the land so he could understand

The meaning of struggle and strain

He was ready for the ride with God inside
Precious little to lose - and a lot gain.
The face of Memphis was about to change
The face of Memphis was due a change
It would really change
Be rearranged
Be rearranged and changed by the Man In Black

How does a man become a leader? He’s chosen.
The man in black - whom we all love supposing,
He hadn’t turned his back on the land to make a place in the  SUN
And sung to the people – the songs he sung
We’d never have known such a power and force
History would have changed its course
No! Country music would never have changed.
The face of Memphis would never have changed
Well, maybe changed
Been rearranged,
But not rearranged as it was by the Man in Black.

He strode into Sun with his six string in his hand
With words and music not hard to understand
With his pockets filled with songs and a love for life
That told of the strain and told of the strife
Of the strain and the pain in a working man’s life
Of the struggle and the pain in a working man’s life
And the face of Memphis began to change
Yes! The face of Memphis began to change
You could see the change
You could feel the change
And the change was there because of  . . .
                                                    The Man in Black.

Fifty years of passion cannot be forgotten
Firm picking fingers picking strings -  that once picked cotton
The seed of life he daily sowed

Inviting all to follow down the Gospel Road

There isn’t a place where his voice isn’t known

Where his love for the Lord isn’t clearly shown
While the face of Memphis continues to change
Yes! The face of Memphis has really changed
You can see the change
You can feel the change.
The change is there because of the Man in Black.

They ask him why he’s always dressed in black . . .

© copyright Roy Jenner Auckland New Zealand
                            7 April 2003