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


Breath of Life


peaceful,-quiet –

His presence fills.

Deep breath; sweet intimacy-

I am yours, you’re mine.

Out of rest speaks quiet joy.

Fullness of God; grace given; thirst quenched.

Looking outwards, new days open door.

Breath of Life. Grace shared!

Living vitality, sparkling eyes,

dancing with curiosity!

Touching hearts.


Author – Bill Tidsbury

Thunder’s pulse

At times the pull of thunder’s pulse,

can shake the senses with its surge.

Wonders splashed with colours true

seem so blinding to  eyes still new,

and all around the surge of grace

dampens breath as hush takes shape

and makes the air as thick as ocean’s blue.

These times are real and open vistas pure

that say I really am alive with You.


At times the crazy way that people talk,

fills up my head with words of fluff.

The chatter and the busyness seems

designed to say life’s only memes!

The crazy way that movies plot

and then the games that leap and cheer,

all call my senses to deny

that peace exists and love is nigh.

The noise betrays my anxious heart

as things shriek out – “You’re never part!”


When suddenly, I find a  moment pure,

when in an instant bright eyes smile.

They speak of life and mystery’s glee,

enveloping me with their soul’s delight.

Anew I see, that  life is bright when hearts are free.

A child imagines, and young man grins,

the beauty invites the best of me

and all is right when dreams can be.


And in these eyes, I hear the vibe ,

of thunder’s roar that was outside.

The grace that drives that awesome rumble,

is the same face that sees through eyes.

I twist and see a shift in space,

to really see and not erase,

to open up to treasure’s joy

and find the seed though buried cold!

And so I feel creation’s splendour

living gritty as I taste and wonder.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Colour’s reminder


the brilliance

trapped within the source

of light with life and radiance.



the grace

that lights the heavens

when all is clear and life is light.



a colour

that kids who play

paint for the dragon fierce who cries!



the pain,

the sacrifice that’s given

to bring to life the love that’s joy.


Golden orange,

the blessing

of day’s grand end

when darkness comes to dance with dreams.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Craft a treasure

Craftsman shaping – seeing possibilities in a broken shell!

Eyes that see uniquely, while others only stare.

Grasping some elusive vision – touching what’s in pieces,

He carves within hard shell his visionary form.


Sated eyes that drift, always glancing never seeing further,

The darting shows they’re not within their comfort zone.

They left a cruise ship far away and wander seeking,

for an electric happenstance to give them form.


I am shaping what I touch, yet often simply unaware.

My eyes if drifting, need to see the grace that’s itching to be formed.

When my destiny with pressure rumbles,

will I craft a treasure in my tattered soul,

or, simply what till someone shapes my form?

Author – Bill Tidsbury