Then along came The Month of Poetry (MoP) . The challenge of MoP is to write one poem a day in the month of January. I was a little tempted – but really, one poem a day! But my friends Michelle and Nola said, “Go on, you can do it.” So I signed up. And I have had an absolute ball – both writing poetry, learning new forms, reading my fellow MoPettes poems, and receiving feedback.

I’m planning on signing up next January.

All of this is a long winded way to say – I am going to have to confess to being a poet. Maybe not an accomplished one, or a brilliant one – but a poet nonetheless.

I want to say a big thank you to Kat Apel – moderator and instigator of MoP.  I also want to encourage you, my reader, if you have desire to tinker with poetry, don’t worry whether you have the skill or not – don’t hold back, just let go of the hidden poet.

One of the forms I learned from one of my fellow poets during MoP was the Trimeric invented by Dr Charles A Stone.  It’s a neat little form. I wanted to give it a go – and I was taken by a verse in Isaiah that resonated with me. The result was my first Scriptural Trimeric.

The Good Shepherd

He gently tends his flock
gathering little lambs in his arms
carries them close to his heart
shepherding those who have young.

Gathering little lambs in his arms
holding them tight and secure
our fears he softly calms.

Carries us close to his heart
hammering strong in rhythm of love
only prideful fears can push us apart.

Shepherding we who have young.
Scaling the depths of mother-father love
To his footsteps we have clung.

Based on Isa 40:11 NIV

© Jeanette O’Hagan 16 January 2014

Having been reminded of

Jenny

In Clay Jars

This treasure in clay jars God holds,
Clay that is cracked, dirtied, chipped, abused,
Clay that hides the treasure
God enfolds.

So often we see but the outward shell,
Judge others and ourselves by imperfections which abound,
Turn our backs on treasure
God knows well.

His likeness, His image he placed
In us, when from clay and living breath Adam He made.
On His light, community and love
Are our natures based.

We turn our backs on Him, our source of life.
In arrogance and pride we snatch our own way, find our own light,
And lose our path in despair,
In darkness and in strife.

Yet of the treasure he placed within He never loses sight.
He took our clay, broken on a cross,
He took our darkness and strife and with the Father,
Made us right.

Transformed from the grave, God’s Son declared,
He gives new life to our clay. By the Spirit of fire within
Fills cracks, cleans and reveals,
Our treasure shared.

This treasure in clay jars God holds,
Clay that one day will be transformed and translated
To eternal realms, to reveal the treasure,
Father, Son and Spirit enfolds.

Jeanette (Jenny) O’Hagan 2001 (Written for & recited in memory of my brother Chris 1966-2002)