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| Painted Jezebel, Delias hyparete |
WHEN GOD PAINTED THAILAND
When God painted Thailand
As we walked on Sukhumvit Road
God’s paint palette flew by.
Captain Butterfly has a photo to go with this epic poem. Its of the enormous butterfly that inspired the poem when it flew past us. We have a print of it in our kitchen. If possible, I will try to get him to put it on this blog. (I did, he has.)
I wrote this poem many years ago, when I was in my late 30s and really beginning to think seriously about Life, the Universe and Everything. And I was starting to hear what the creation was telling me about its Grand Creator - that Someone had made this so lovely, just for us.
I wrote this on our first visit to Thailand. I had never been there before - and I was dazzled by the bright saturated colours - and the smell of Thailand, which is lemon grass and chile and pepper and galangal and ginger and sandalwood. Back then the lane - Soi - where our friends lived was almost rural, in that there were trees, blossom, snakes, butterflies. And in the morning you could pop out into the Lane and buy freshly made breakfast pancakes from the street seller there. In our latter years of visiting, it was just one long traffic jam - like any big city street. But much hotter and steamier. And in the rainy season when Bangkok flooded, it turned into a river and we had to wade up it.
Jean and I managed to get out Friday morning - to the Field Service group - and we completed the little road we were given. We had one very interesting call - leaving an invite and a magazine - and hopefully we may - just may - see the lady we spoke to at the Memorial. I then had lunch with the Captain - soup and toast. Then he went off an errand to try to detect a lost wedding ring, and I shopped for us and for Jackie. I met two of my sisters while shopping and we stopped for a chat. And I was thinking how much I owe Jehovah. I would not have this lovely local and worldwide family if he had not brought the truth to my door and helped me to understand it.
The Brexit/Bremain thing is now in an unspeakable tangle. I can only think - without taking any sides - that the EU was designed so that it is impossible to leave it. Or else our poor old politicians could not fight their way out of a brown paper bag. Whatever, its a poisoned chalice and I feel quite sorry for all of them.
I was out with my siblings this morning, delivering Memorial invitations. We had a great morning and I am now hoping to get myself together enough to prepare supper for Jacks tonight. If not I shall have to put in an emergency call to the Captain, who is somewhere out there with his metal detector, and it will be fish and chips. Again.
Captain Butterfly has a photo to go with this epic poem. Its of the enormous butterfly that inspired the poem when it flew past us. We have a print of it in our kitchen. If possible, I will try to get him to put it on this blog. (I did, he has.)
I wrote this poem many years ago, when I was in my late 30s and really beginning to think seriously about Life, the Universe and Everything. And I was starting to hear what the creation was telling me about its Grand Creator - that Someone had made this so lovely, just for us.
I wrote this on our first visit to Thailand. I had never been there before - and I was dazzled by the bright saturated colours - and the smell of Thailand, which is lemon grass and chile and pepper and galangal and ginger and sandalwood. Back then the lane - Soi - where our friends lived was almost rural, in that there were trees, blossom, snakes, butterflies. And in the morning you could pop out into the Lane and buy freshly made breakfast pancakes from the street seller there. In our latter years of visiting, it was just one long traffic jam - like any big city street. But much hotter and steamier. And in the rainy season when Bangkok flooded, it turned into a river and we had to wade up it.
Jean and I managed to get out Friday morning - to the Field Service group - and we completed the little road we were given. We had one very interesting call - leaving an invite and a magazine - and hopefully we may - just may - see the lady we spoke to at the Memorial. I then had lunch with the Captain - soup and toast. Then he went off an errand to try to detect a lost wedding ring, and I shopped for us and for Jackie. I met two of my sisters while shopping and we stopped for a chat. And I was thinking how much I owe Jehovah. I would not have this lovely local and worldwide family if he had not brought the truth to my door and helped me to understand it.
The Brexit/Bremain thing is now in an unspeakable tangle. I can only think - without taking any sides - that the EU was designed so that it is impossible to leave it. Or else our poor old politicians could not fight their way out of a brown paper bag. Whatever, its a poisoned chalice and I feel quite sorry for all of them.
I was out with my siblings this morning, delivering Memorial invitations. We had a great morning and I am now hoping to get myself together enough to prepare supper for Jacks tonight. If not I shall have to put in an emergency call to the Captain, who is somewhere out there with his metal detector, and it will be fish and chips. Again.
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