Variations on Joy

Joy’s a bubble that catches you, as if by some surprise. It rises up in splendour and sings a song that says – “I’m living, I’m dancing, I’m floating up on air!” It grabs your every neighbour and swings them up with flare! It tantalizes, and then invades! It flings restraint and cries- “Come  laugh with me and celebrate, as if you have no care!”

Joy’s a soil, that’s rich and full of hope. Yet seems benign and normal, as you tread upon the ground. Yet as you walk, you spread some seeds that seem to take on life. They suddenly are bountiful and soaring in a splendour all of green. And not so long beyond this time, along come purple colours, they show a face that look to be the grapes that make Shiraz! Before you know it, you’re drinking wine and rest beneath some shade, that Joy produced cause it was part, of the soil beneath your feet.

Joy’s a trickle, that starts within crag. It drips and drops as from skies above, when troubles storm and crash. As time goes on this trickle joins with partners far and wide. It travels ever lower, to fill the hollows down below, where life’s not rarified. And as it goes, it opens wide to bring its grace to all. A mighty river, invincible, as on it flows, down to the sea to join the many other remnants there, of storms that went before.

Joy’s a gift, not earned with sweat nor taken by mighty force. It simply is a grace, for those who hunger for something more, within their lives so bound. It comes in gently as a friend , unannounced when most we need. Suddenly, in lives held close we feel a sudden shift. As grace meets rest and fellowship, I sense the blossoms opening and so I am found within these arms, the one who never fails to bring surprise and drench the ground with dew when time stands still.

Author – Bill Tidsbury


Kindergarten’s hope in a broken world

Angry boy,

running wild,

hardly knowing what it means

to be loved!


Little boy,

lashing out,

always guarding his small self

from others.


Quiet girl,


little hand creating art





hugs of love with brilliant eyes.



Crying heart.

Memory shocks!

Child saw death and can’t forget-

Now peaceful.


Laughing boy,

making friends,

finding safety in a room

filled with care.




Grace changing the future now!

Pledging hope.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

What’s possible

Seeking to change but bound by pain, a thief’s eyes weep in despair. He plainly can see , the course of the years, the choices that wounded those dear. The vileness breathes, a noxious perfume, of guilt, raw blight and his shame. He weeps as he runs back to his deep gloom and hides with the fumes in his brain.

Yet something keeps rising, if ever so faintly, of possible change in his path. He longs for a friend who believes in him still and will release him from chains and despair. He knows it’s impossible, he knows he’s foredoomed, to wander alone and afraid. And still he cries out for a break in this bond, that always strangles and shames.

Through all the layers of fear and deceit, that flow like instinct to fleece, one more chance to find a nickel or dime, to lend seduction’s embrace. But one still does stand, who sees deeper than most, and calls to the promise in life. He beckons and breathes, new possibilities grow, where only boils shame and this plight.

A moment in time, an instant most sure, when choice reaches out to explore. A shift brings a crack, in the darkness of loss, and grace kisses dreams once again. The despair is so strong, the grip is so fierce as this chance looms bright ahead. A shift to believe, redemption enfolds, and peace paints a face once dead.

Triumph is hard when the pain is most fierce and chains bite hard into flesh. Victory is sweet, when death is revealed as feeble when facing new life. A heart learns to love, first himself, then his wife, as this soul senses joy that’s surreal. His journey begun, resurrection is true, and destiny greets promise for life.

Author – Bill Tidsbury



Light enfolded-

kaleidoscope of beauty.

Palette pressed into white.

Uniqueness seemingly lost – blinding light!

Glorious company enthralled by lover’s blaze.

Rest comes in fullness. Everything is won.

Vastness opens to prism’s keen face.

Tumbling rainbows lift heart’s hope.

Specially “Me”! Destiny found!

Grace sculpting light.

Vitality’s embrace.


Author – Bill Tidsbury

Questions from the Journey

Why does illusion attract?

Why do I find comfort in lies?

Why does fear leap so high,

creating this hunger to hide?

How does my thinking go silly?

How does my seeing grow dim?

How do I turn down the volume,

on that voice that says it’s not right?

When do I bury my head?

When do I simply choose sleep?

When do I curl up in sorrow,

waiting for it all just to end?

Who is really my friend?

Who is the one who deceives?

Who is the one who must choose,

where my pathway will lead?

What can I do to find hope?

What can I do to just rest?

What is the way to rest in your love,

and dance through the darkness instead ?

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Love’s found joy

Trust is instinctive,

a reaction embedded

when brushing by others.

You step on the stage,

and show I can live,

scandalously free.


Trust is essential

to breathing and more.

Trust is from heaven.

A mystery so great!

It washes my pain

with your eyes that rain!


Trust is a beauty,

with eyes fixed

upon me,

protecting me,

lavishing sparkles,

that flow through my day.


Trust is a whisper,

that hints of a promise,

while splashing my dance floor

with music so lively,

it brings me vitality

while quieting fear.


Trust meets me kissing,

inviting transparency,

blessing with secrets

the one who would dare

caress me with tenderness

while holding me bare.


Trust is between us.

so your eyes gives me wings!

My heart begins flying,

cause trust leapt to soar.

Trust is my freedom

because love’s found joy.

Author – Bill Tidsbury


Trusting as I rest in the safety of your arms,

quiet in the sensing of serenity so strong.

Looking into eyes that are still and full of hope,

I twinkle, gently pleased with what I feel this day.


Yet, in those moments when pointy questions seem to rise,

speaking softly in the echo of my soul.

Queries that bring ripples and the sucking sounds of fear-

things that speak of “maybe”, only adding to the score.


Trust becomes embattled, clearly headed out the door,

Things begin to crack and then decay.

I am faced with confidence lying shattered on the floor,

My dreams are bleeding, likely stillborn, as I’m dying in dismay!


Yet, hope can still be certain, when anchored strong in love.

Love that is as fierce as lions, holding to the core.

Betrayal often circles built on lies and biting pain,

actually stealing trust from whence it came.


When in pain uncertain, when all seems lost in agony,

then is still the moment to trust again.

Love believes, and dreams while clinging to this thing,

I have seen you at your worst and still I see:


You’re all that’s beautiful,

Still, all that’s kind,

and all that’s carried me through to this time.


I sense,

Pain inexplicable,

Fear unavoidable,

shame that is despicable,

needing trust’s kiss once more.


Trusting, still believing, that together we can live,

I step into your arms and listen once again.

I know we’re both imperfect, but still so bright,

in hoping and believing we can travel in the night.

Author – Bill Tidsbury