On a swing

Little girl on a swing, she delights me as she sings.

She is four and she adores, one who laughs and plays some more.

Little boy her friend so fine, they can fight and not be kind.

When competing for my hand they become a lot less grand.


Little girl she seems to find, so much love in all who’re kind.

Yet she’s learning life can be, something hard that makes you flee.

Little boy, he feels so proud, when He knows he is allowed,

to assist in chores for Dad, He believes he’s quite the lad.


Little girl, she’ll grow up soon, join the mess that fills each room.

She’ll forget this wondrous joy, use her body as’er employ.

Little boy may learn to hate, the gentle soul that is his trait.

He’ll reduce his life to fights, pushing hard to take his rights.


So we grow as tender shoots, ’til foul deeds crush with their boots.

What was grand is soon forgot, fantasy stills our deadly thoughts.

Still, I see in each young eye, a promised hint that God draws nigh.

I do believe in wonders born, cause treasure’s formed in what’s forlorn!

Author – Bill Tidsbury


Securely me

Honesty moves a Daddy’s heart. He sees me as I am – so why shouldn’t I? Since this one who loves, first touched my being, He’s ever only called me into dreams.

Transparency is hard to value, when others seem quick to judge. Yet when I’m in the Spirit’s presence, my flesh just tingles as His fire disrobes my shame – and I am free!

Tranquility drapes expansively as I settle into love. The one who holds my gaze has eyes that flame and yet weep tears. He died to live that I might be, forever found securely me.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

A normal day

An average day, a normal day,

I say it without thought!

It’s easy just to tramp along

and only see the past.

What is today, was yesterday,

and always seems to come.

I stop at lights, they change to green

and then the lady with the grin,

steps out while holding to

a little hand outside the school.

I quickly pass the beggar man,

he’s always sitting right beside,

the open door, that always spews,

a stream of people from the bank.

I know it well, it’s quite a show,

I see the play each day, I’m bored!!


An average day, a normal day,

it’s always quite unique.

I walk along with keen eyes bright,

and watch for sparkle’s glowing wake.

When e’re I see that glistening sight,

I sense my wonder now in flight.

I savour joy’s expectancy,

as suddenly the atmosphere

transforms in colour’s interplay.

A kiss exchanged, a lover found;

the embrace of a warrior strong;

a pet leaps out and wags its tail;

a child delights as chortles soar.

The grace of life’s eternity

begins as beauty shapes my stance.

I am this day’s vitality!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Open windows

eyes, those of a child full of life, those of the poor so enduring.

those who sorrow pouring streams, those who’re merry, leak so cheery!

eyes that speak of what’s inside, tell us clearly we must not hide.


eyes that sparkle speak of life,

eyes that sing while glistening.

eyes that give and then caress,

leap igniting hope so sweet.

eyes that kiss are ohh most rare!


eyes so vacant seem so blind

eyes that need and then connive.

Always desperate so intent

shift to rob and then to hide

eyes that die while still alive.


eyes, they reap from what’s within.

eyes, they rouse up dreams galore.

I live life and really give

living laughter through my gaze.

eyes, they share what I will dare!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Hope’s eyes

The consternation of a father,

as a precious child cries,

its power evokes the heavens,

as he seeks to turn the tide,

and in the dungeons of his heart,

a prisoner groans,

remembering days now past,

when pain became his home.


The fears that ply a mother’s soul,

as hungry toddlers ask her “why”.

She has no job that brings the dough,

and so hates her life also.

The future looms with horror’s mist,

which thickens slow and grey,

then devours greedily

as silence weeps her tears.


And while I seek, so weak and small,

to change this moment’s need.

I come with little in my hand ,

but eyes that see a God that breathes.

Then in this nexus peace is born,

as hope’s eyes sparkle with surprise

while arms of grace so wise

heal hearts with bread that’s real.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

What plight

Locked within my known shores,

I look with wonder as others soar.

I would so love to fly up free,

while holding tight to this my way.


The blue of skies can be so pure,

It’s shocking really first to see.

The shock soon fades with eyes shut tight –

I can not leave my known shores.


A voice still whispers that I might

arise so free, and then take flight.

There’s something deep that reaches out,

I squeeze it hard in case it shouts.


I choose to live with silenced heart,

it’s safe to dwell on barren shores.

I cannot frame a different form,

than one with wings so weak and shorn.


Persistent still the voice calls out.

Reminding me of blue skies bright.

I wonder if some other day,

I might leap up and leave my plight?

Author – Bill Tidsbury